Psychobabble
by Katritam
Summary: The boys and a psychiatrist. Need I really say more?
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: Mine!...never mine...*sigh*_

_A/N- Hey all, for those of you who have read my Vin Angst Fest, 'Tragic Miscommunication', welcome! I'm going for something a little different here, a mix of humour, insight, angst and H/C, so we'll have to see what the muse demands. –Basically a series of 7 short chapters (relatively short ATM- those from 'Tragic' know that I SUCK at keeping my chapters of a manageable length ) and then of course, a nice __**little**__ ending chapter._

_Welcome to the ride...keep your arms and legs in at all times...off we go then..._

**Chapter 1: The Premise**

Travis stared...no, glared, at the innocent piece of paper that was on the desk in front of him.

No good could come of this.

_**AD Travis,**_

_**It has come to the attention of several notable research boards that one of the ATF teams under your supervision is consistently recorded as performing well above par, in comparison to other teams, both intercommunity, state and nationwide.**_

_**As a result of the effectiveness of this team, the ATF statutes board has given permission for a series of tests, questionnaires and activities to be conducted by a trained physiatrist, in hopes of using the information gathered to recreate and encourage the same successfulness among other teams.**_

_**Dr Miles Weston has been procured, a well respected psychiatrist, who also has the necessary security clearance, and as such, we ask that Team 7 be available over the week beginning the 7th of June.**_

_**Flights are booked and paid for in full, and the Maxton Business Resort will accommodate both the team and the scheduled meeting and activities.**_

_**Could the following Agents be made aware of the necessity of their presence.**_

_**-Agent Christopher Larabee**_

_**-Agent Buck Wilmington**_

_**-Agent Josiah Sanchez**_

_**-Agent Vincent Tanner**_

_**-Agent Nathan Jackson**_

_**-Agent Ezra Standish**_

_**-Agent John Dunne**_

_**Regards,**_

_**Lars Compton, Board Director**_

_***Orrin...this is non-negotiable. Your men WILL be there.**_

Orrin threw the letter down in disgust.

Shit.

**END.**

**A/N- On to the fun stuff. Oh by the way...if you review...I write...and aren't you just **_**dying **_**to know exactly how a two bit fanfic writer such as myself plans to turn this clichéd, overdone, completely unoriginal storyline into a work of art!**

***Hopefully***

**Review People!**


	2. Familiar Dynamics

_**Psychobabble **_

_Disclaimer: If only..._

A/N- **THIS STORY HAS NOT BEEN ABANDONED. **_It just crept off and hibernated through winter in some dark little crevasse somewhere..._No really. **It. Just. Would. Not. Be. Written. **

But... I persevered, cajoled, threatened, yelled, screamed, bribed, sobbed, howled, shouted, and screeched...until I managed to _**force**_ the following onto the screen.

I really hope it was worth the wait.

BTW- It's maybe, _kinda_ long. Let me know if it's TOO long.

**Chapter 1: Familiar Dynamics**

Chris's knees almost buckled as he stepped down onto the hot tarmac, feet half asleep in his boots. 11 hours on a small 10 seater aircraft was a nightmare. 11 hours on a small 10 seater aircraft, with_ them,_ was pure hell.

Looking around, Chris couldn't see the hire car that was supposed to have been dropped off for them, and nor could he see the team that their pilot was purportedly waiting for before returning to civilization, but then looking at his watch, which showed the time as being only just past 5pm, he realised they we about a half hour early, and ignoring the irritating tingle from his feet, he pulled the worn leather backpack over his arm, settling it against his shoulder and limp-shuffled a few feet to the left, into the shadow cast by the plane. It was probably the only patch of shade in the near vicinity, and 'shade' was being generous, but Chris welcomed it, running a hand through blond hair, that was already warm to the touch, even after only a minute or two of direct sunlight.

It was hot.

Bloody hot.

"Oy, Cowboy!", turning towards the exuberant call, Chris barely had time to get his hands up to catch the even more worn leather satchel flying towards his face.

Shaking his head in fond exasperation, he watched as Vin leapt from the plane, following a nearly identical path to his backpack. Not intending to catch the tracker as he had the pack, Chris stepped to the side, out of the line of fire.

"Jesus Tanner, watch it!" Chris snarled, even as his hand steadied the slim shoulder, growling as Vin almost pitched forward. The rebuke sounded harsh on his lips, but Vin just laughed, obviously catching the mock anger hidden beneath the snide remark.

Balance immediately righted, Vin all but bounced away, calling a rather unapologetic "Sorry!" over his shoulder as he went.

Chris, green eyes still tracking the unbridled energy of his tracker, obligingly moved further along the side of the aircraft, making more room but not giving up his shade, as the small plane shuddered and dipped to one side. Josiah's large frame shouldered through the rather ridiculous sized hatch, his own overnight bag, slung across one wide shoulder making the feat just that much harder.

One final tug and Josiah was thrust free of the doorway, stumbling down the suddenly flimsy metal steps, stepping off onto solid ground with obvious relief. Securing his bag from where the momentum of his exit had swung it, the ex-preacher turned his eyes skyward with a sigh of thanks, before he moved to join Chris in the relative shade.

Despite the sweat already beading on his sun-weathered face, Josiah was the image of contentment. Chris, using his hat as a makeshift fan, already three shades of irritated red, was unable to comprehend the tranquillity his profiler was showing.

Finally, disbelief waring with awe, Chris had to ask, "How the hell can you be so...so..._damn_ _dignified? _", At Chris's abrupt demand Josiah turned to him startled, but Chris was already continuing, "It's got to be hot enough to boil an egg out here...and you're just...! " Chris grunted incoherently as he gestured at Josiah's relaxed state, before yanking his pack around his side, pulling the half heat warped plastic bottle from the bags side netting. Disgusted frustration flooded his features as he stared at the stagnant dregs at the bottom of the bottle.

Josiah leant against the plane, eyes surveying the vast open landscape before them, answering, "You did not have the pleasure of sitting between Buck and JD for the past 11 hours, I assure you brother...compared to that hell, this weather is positively crisp"

Larabee stared at Josiah for a moment, one eyebrow raised in consideration, and then with a shrug he conceded, "Point taken". Turning back to the task at hand, Chris began to rifle through the other bag in his possession, triumphantly producing Vin's 3 parts full water bottle.

Taking a long swig, Chris recapped the bottle and shoved it back into the dark confines of the worn backpack. Settling more fully into his shady alcove, half beneath the wing, Chris felt the liquids effect immediately. Tension leached from his shoulders as the cool water relieved some of the heat stress, leaving him feeling much more prepared and presentable.

An image that was shattered an instant later when Ezra strolled from the confines of the plane after their 11 hour flight looking as well coifed and calm as ever. The man was uncanny...unnatural.

Just unbelievable.

Looking at Vin, several meters away, head thrown back, in full sun, leaching in the hot rays and fresh air, to Josiah looking as well-contented as if he had just fulfilled a lifelong dream (which, having been freed from the tyranny that was JD and Buck-perhaps he had) and Ezra who looked as if he may be prepared for a GQ photo-shoot, Chris couldn't help but wonder...

_Didn't anyone else have the common decency to be hot!_

Catching his bosses rather infuriated gaze, Ezra, always one to tempt fate, spoke, "Why, Mr Jackson and I quite enjoyed our flight, what with the spare seat between us... we were quite spaciously attended"

Chris growled below his breath, turning to glare at Josiah, who was sniggering besides him. At Josiah's suddenly trite face, Chris turned his attention back on Ezra, he opened his mouth, unsure exactly what he was going to say, but rest assured, it would not have been fit for fairer company.

And then Ezra plonked; yes, _plonked_ himself down in the dust, on his very expensive, very precious, _Louis Vuitton_ carry-on bag.

Green meeting green, Chris stared down at the undercover operative currently lounging in the shade at his feet, and raised that damnable eyebrow again.

Ezra's reply to the unspoken goading was quite succinct, "_Not a word_, Mr Larabee..." and the southerner turned his attentions to his own water bottle.

Chris, satisfied now that he knew he wasn't the only one suffering, turned his attention back to the planes still open hatch, wondering why it was taking so long for the rest of his men to exit. In truth, he did not begrudge Ezra his spare seat, at the very rear of the plane. Chris knew from experience, that the advantage of any extra space was overpowered by the negatives of less air flow and no windows. Besides, there had been no contest or true discussion about the seating configuration, there was just a certain way that things had to fall, and so they had.

Being such a small plane, the seating arrangements were usually allotted by weight determination. With the pilot and co-pilot in the cockpit, that left the 8 remaining seats in one row of two and two rows of three.

The heaviest in the middle, and as closely balanced in the row in front and behind as possible. Naturally, Josiah, as the heaviest, took the middle seat of the middle row. Normally, Nathan would then take either the seat to his left or right, and Buck the other. Ezra and Chris in the front two seats and JD and Vin in the rear was the closest to weight balance as was possible with this particular group. However, there was a slight spanner to throw in the works.

Vin did not fly well.

His claustrophobia, usually mild and easily controlled, was sometimes heightened by the enclosed qualities of flight.

Particularly in tiny, dully lit, rather crowded planes.

And as such, putting him in the back, with the least air flow, and no windows, would not be overly bright.

So Vin sat in the front row, nearest a window.

And where Vin went... as did Chris.

It was deemed prudent to seat Chris in the opposite window seat to Vin, seeing as how Chris had the most influence over the younger man, and would be the one most likely to be able to calm him, in the rare event that he should panic.

And Chris had the trackers utmost trust, which was not to be scoffed at.

So with Chris and Vin in the front row, Ezra and Nathan became the closest pair to balancing their weight in the third row, leaving Josiah between Buck and JD.

_Oh Glory! Halleluiah!_

Chris did have to wonder though, how Ezra had gotten out before JD and Buck, who had been sitting in front of him. He was about to ask his undercover operative just that when a shout was heard from the pain.

Umm... _plane._

"Huh..._wha..._BUCK!...GOD-DAMN IT BUCK! WHAT THE HELL?...IS THIS..._is...is it...oh god, please tell me it isn't permanent!_" Their youngests voice started out more confused than anything else, although it quickly escalated to incredulous, and then straight on through angry into furious...before whimpering off to complete and utter disbelieving shock.

Curiosity barely outweighing his dread, Chris turned more fully towards the plane, about to go investigate the newest Buck-JD induced drama, when JD's irate form appeared through the hatch. Strangely, although he was moving closer to the exit, JD was facing the wrong way, back into the plane, and visibly straining to get further into the plane...presumably, to get close enough to ring Buck's neck, if the loud protests from inside were any indication.

"JD!...I' wasn't...I would never!...well, I _would_...but I didn't!" Buck's disembodied voice rang out clearly from the bowels of the plane, innocence infusing every syllable, disparaged honour on the line, as mock offence and insult laced his indignant voice.

The badly disguised and poorly muffled sniggers, snorts, giggles and chuckles that accompanied every pause did nothing to encourage JD's lenience or belief of Bucks innocence.

Unable to see exactly what was happening, those outside the plane looked on in curious trepidation, as the scene slowly began to unravel and become hilariously clear.

JD's backwards movement was explained several seconds later when the pair of dark skinned hands on his shoulders became visible in the sunlight streaming through the hatch. Nathan shoved JD backwards again, strength enough to slowly push the younger man backwards, despite JD's incessant wish to move forwards.

Nathan's voice, a low mumble, became clearer as he pushed JD closer to the exit and further from Buck, the outline of whose frame could be seen practically cowering, and then alternatively preening behind Nathan's protecting broad shoulders.

The medic wasn't actually talking _to_ either of his current companions, but was instead bemoaning the way that he _always_ ended up in the middle of _these _situations, "_Children!...met 2 year olds with more sense!..._No JD..._goddamn it, Buck...shut up!.._Now JDI'm sure that we can settle this properly...NO, outside the plane..._bloody crack your head open or break a goddamn window..._OFF THE PLANE!"Nathans voice rose at the end of his tirade as he bodily shoved JD from the hatch, out into the open air, careful to make sure that the younger man cleared the steps safely.

JD stumbled as his feet hit the ground unexpectedly, but kept his balance, despite the undignified force with which he had been propelled; facing the plane, JD's back was mostly turned to those along the side of the plane. Nathan followed JD down the steps, moving to stand near Josiah, duty complete now that the situation was no longer impeded by danger of impalement by the interior fixtures of the plane.

Buck had apparently decided that if JD was outside, along with five of his other team members, than perhaps it would be safe to stick his head out, and hope that the others would step in if JD attempted bodily harm against him.

Standing on the top step, the interior of the plane offering a speedy retreat, should it become necessary, Buck tried to placate his angry roommate.

"Now JD, hear me out...I swear it wasn't me!" his innocence sounded genuine, but JD knew the man he thought of as an older brother, and he just wasn't buying it.

Red in the face, hands fluttering at his sides as they fisted and then unfisted, his voice thready and high with tightly retrained anger, JD growled, "Don't give me that shit!...I know it was you!..Who else would do **this**to me?" JD thrust his arms out, and then gestured to his face, although the actual evidence was not visible to the others.

Buck aimed for sympathetic ignorance, but couldn't stifle the incessant sniggers, which did not endear him to JD at all. The ladies man was quick to answer when JD took a menacing step forward. "JD, It wasn't me! I was on the other side of Josiah! Do you really think he'd let me lean all over him just to torment you!"

JD stared at Buck, head tilted in consideration, taking into account the length of the flight, Josiah's temperament, the size of the plane, the length of time his..._desecration..._ would have taken and Bucks consider bulk...

And was interrupted before he could come to a suitable deduction.

Ezra, curiosity overcoming his normal unconcerned aloofness, finally couldn't stand being left out of the loop, especially considering the rather knowing smirks on most of the other faces above him, called to the disgruntled JD, "Mr Dunne! I demand to know the cause of this…incessantly abrogative performance!"

JD stilled, finally seeming to realize that not only did he have an audience, but perhaps witnesses as well. He turned, almost reluctantly, arms crossed in petulant silence, black polo shirt failing to hide any of the rather interesting new 'body art' that he had so recently acquired.

Blue scrawl, felt pen ink, to be precise, covered the majority of the tanned arms, neck and face. A landscape of swirls, flowers, hearts, clouds and a few, rather…colourful anecdotes were carefully drawn.

JD stared at the team, _glared_ at them, just _daring_ anyone to say _anything. _

Silence reigned…for all of thirty seconds.

Then the sniggers and snorts began and JD's outraged growling yelp was drowned out by laughter and general insanity. They only died down when the murderous look on JD's face seemed set to become murderous intent, although the occasional guffaw or muffled chuckle still managed to escape.

JD, hands on hips, which only helped highlight his plight, was not through glaring at the others yet, seemingly having forgotten about Buck, who took this opportunity to leave the plane and sidle past his glowering friend to seek refuge behind Nathan again.

It was a calculated move, but once the ladies' man re-entered JD's line of sight, the boy pinpointed his attack on the perceived cause of his current _misfortune._

Chris could almost see how this whole incident should play out, and it would usually end with JD laughing while trying, unsuccessfully, to headlock Buck, whilst, at the same time, trying, unsuccessfully, to escape Buck's noogie.

Yet, Chris could see that something was...off...about this whole situation.

"_BUCK!_ This better not be permanent pen! If it is…_" _JD was well and truly riled, eyes angry, hand everywhere in his irritation, which in and of itself was strange.

While JD wasn't what anyone would normally call a 'laid back' kinda guy, he usually took to his older team mates ribbing like a duck to water, particularly Buck, whom he adored.

And then proceeded to give as good as he got, if not better.

This...anger was uncharacteristic of the young man, and Chris knew that it stemmed from the boys nerves about the week ahead.

Although it wasn't the teams first 'psychological evaluation', Chris knew that JD often wondered if his youth and inexperience made him a liability on the team, and it never mattered how many times Buck, Chris...or any of the other men told him that it was bullshit, JD always worried that one of these 'witch doctors' was going to suddenly decide that JD was too young to be out of diapers and send him back to the sandpit with all the other kids.

Chris had already had 'words' with the higher ups 2 years ago when he had sought to hire the then 21 year old JD in the first place, and most understood that if JD was sent packing, Chris was walking...and the rest of the team with him, so it was a pretty safe bet that JD was secure as a member of team 7.

JD still had doubts though, and Chris knew he wasn't the only one.

For some reason, probably entirely coincidental, those who seemed to doubt themselves and their right to be on the team the most were three his youngest.

Along with JD, Chris found that he also had to watch Ezra and Vin, as both were just as prone to bouts of insecurity and anxiety, however, Vin and Ezra were a lot more distrustful than the still naive JD.

Looking from his verbose undercover operative, who was still lounging quite contentedly, if a little warm, at his feet, over to his reticent tracker, who was currently lying on the dirt airstrip, staring up into the hot sun, Chris was amazed at the similarities that existed in two so very different personas.

Most of the time, Ezra ad Vin were thick as thieves, loyal and dedicated in their friendship, and woe betide any who appeared in their joined cross-hairs; separately they were formidable, but together...hell could not compare. As Buck, the main target of the terrible twos shenanigans, would no doubt be glad to attest.

However, on this fateful afternoon, it seemed that Ezra had decided to throw his partner in crime to the wolves. Anything, in an attempt to silence JD's caterwauling and Bucks protests, that, along with the heat, the 11 hour flight and the approaching car trip, was really just too much for Ezra's sensitive disposition

Chris winced with every blundering guffaw that escaped the still protesting Buck, sniggered as JD's smaller, lankier frame advanced threateningly, and wondered if perhaps he would be safer over with Vin, out of the line of fire.

Said tracker was seemingly paying no attention to the situation near the plane, what with his hat covering the tanned face, blue eyes no doubt closed in sleep, Vin having been one of only a few who hadn't dozed on the flight. However, knowing Vin, Chris wouldn't assume anything, he'd seen Vin fly upright in a heartbeat from apparent 'dead sleep' once too often, to be fooled that easily.

Chris sidled to his left, intent on joining Vin despite the heat, when a hand on his ankle stopped him, and looking down, Chris sighed and settled against the plane again.

Heaven forbid he should take Ezra's shade.

Ezra's green eyes rolled, as he took in the obvious knowledge in Chris's and from the majority of the faces above him, and looking at JD more closely, the quick witted agent quickly pieced together the puzzle, despite the missing pieces that the others where hoarding.

Interrupting JD's decidedly menacing stalk towards Buck, who was kind of boxed in behind Nathan and Josiah, Ezra called, "Excuse me, Mr. Dunne, if I may be so bold, but this incessant quarrelling is grating on any of my nerves that remained un-fried by this atrocious heat" JD turned to glare at Ezra, obviously not impressed of with the conman's belligerent interruption.

Unconcerned about Buck's danger, but apprehensive of his own personal jeopardy, Ezra was quick to continue "At the risk of incurring the wrath of a particularly devious colleague, whose name shall not pass these lips, I must inform you, that Mr. Wilmington, as much as it distresses me to say, is in fact being truthful in his declarations of innocence, another miscreant is at fault"

JD's stare was still angry, but confused, he turned to Ezra questioningly.

"The true reprobate in this matter, is a certain, let's say mischievous, individual, and as all great artists, he has left his signature on his masterpiece..." Ezra grinned roguishly at the younger man, who was already twisting his arms tis way and that, searching for where this 'reprobate' had left his name.

Enjoying the suddenly confused stares on the previously knowing faces above him, Ezra preened at the questioning looks, and bolstered by the lighter atmosphere added to his explanation, "Mr Dunne, I implore you, stop that juvenile...wiggling..." JD's glare was slightly darker this time, but Ezra ignored it in favour of finally revealing the big clue only his sharp mind had grasped.

"Your reflection...in the airplane window..." Ezra sighed, not so subtly tapping his forehead. JD's hand flew up, the bamboozled look in his eyes being replaced with suspicious fury, as he shouldered between Chris and Josiah to look at himself in the window.

He stared at his reflection for a few seconds, hands still up, before he spun back towards the others, shouting "**BUCK!...**I knew it was you...I knew it!" he crowed angrily.

Ezra sighed, exasperated, threw his arms up in the air, and shaking his head, turned his ministrations back to his water.

Buck looked completely surprised, so sure that he was about to be exonerated of this insidious crime...when his eyes caught sight of JD's forehead and the big block letters printed there.

'**BABY BUCKLIN**'

Ezra was right, a signature...plain as day.

Bringing a hand up placatingly, Buck was quick to point this out..."JD...Only one person in this world calls me Bucklin...and it sure as hell ain't me."

JD stopped, staring at Buck for a moment, hand going unconsciously to his forehead again, and then suddenly, it was 'light-bulb on', as realisation and understanding dawned.

"**VIN TANNER!**" JD spun towards his team-mate, closest in age, comrade in arms, partner in crime and the only seemingly innocent one among them.

Who was currently doubled over laughing like a hyena, no doubt aware that his charade was over, and the sham in shambles.

2 minutes later Vin was streaking across the field, JD in fast pursuit, glad to be after the one who actually deserved whatever retribution was dished out on his miserable texan hide.

Chris was grinning, Buck was all out howling and Ezra soft grin revealed the obvious lift in the previously heavy atmosphere.

Nathan settled on the metal step, Buck relaxed on the other side of Chris and Josiah pulled out his water bottle, settling back against the plane. The 'mature' members of their team sat back to watch the afternoon entertainment, glad of the energy that the two youngest were expending after the long flight.

10 minutes later, after lots of cheering, jeering and taunts, it became rather obvious that JD wasn't going to be able to catch Vin; the slim tracker was bloody fast, and quite tricky. The youngest was flagging a little, the heat and exercise getting to him, whereas Vin appeared to actually be getting faster.

JD stopped, and ignoring the cajoling hoot Vin sent over his shoulder, he turned, hands on hips to stare at the other men, his desire clearly written on his face.

Josiah turned a prayer to the sky, calling for the redemption of heat addled youngsters, shaking his head in firm denial.

Buck, the most probable candidate for timely assistance, snorted in indignant disbelief, false accusation still fresh.

Nathan was adamantly shaking his head, muttering about heat exhaustion and gravel burn...

Ezra pointedly slumped further on his luggage, eyebrow raised, message clear

Chris sighed, shoved off from the wall of the plane, and trudged grudgingly towards JD.

Friends in need, an all that.

A further 10 minutes and Vin was on his stomach, face in the grass, and enthusiastic JD sitting on his backside, demanding confession and apology.

Chris wandered back over to the others, wiping the sweat from his forehead and grabbed for Vins water again.

The others chuckled as JD attacked Vin mercilessly; torturing the answer he wanted from his lean captive.

Fingers, curled like claws, digging into his ribs, hands in too many places at once, Vin writhed with the pain, unable to stop the gargled screech from escaping his mouth.

"Gaaha...J—JD... " Vin tried to shove at the behemoth sat squarely on top of him, but JD was too well positioned and Vin couldn't get any purchase to throw him off. "S-stop! StSTop...heahhaa...LEmme-lemego...ger..OFF..." Vin twisted violently but was unable to evade the hurting hands, and finally he broke, "K—O-kay!...f-fine...FINE...It was m-me...snnarhea...I-did...I wr...st-stop...JD! Nuff!..how—OW..ha-ow..."

Vin, blue eyes beseeching, turned to the others a few meters away, trying not to glare at their chuckles as he whimpered pathetically for his Life, "H-help...C-chis...C-Chris...Pllss...Eez...ZRa!...Si-si-si-si...si-AH..g-get-him ooof...'SIAH...Buck—B-Bucklin...J-D!...ahhh...Hi-hiccu-p..." Vin dissolved into hiccups and gasps, unable to form words, each breath a gasping whistle.

Finally Nathan took pity on him, or perhaps he just didn't feel like performing CPR on the gasping sharpshooter. Getting to his feet, the medic spoke, "Okay JD- that's enough, I think Vin understands the error of his ways" at this, Vin began nodding enthusiastically, and JD grinned triumphantly, digging his fingers in harder.

Vin yelped, "Na-na-na...nate!" Nathan sighed and then bodily lifted JD off, shoving the younger man towards Buck, who was quite happy to drag the kid to his side in a head-lock.

Vin lay on the ground, head buried in his arms, sides heaving as he gasped, trying to reclaim his breath, after a few moments he sat up, still a little breathless, but smiling. Looking up at Nathan, face tinged pink, he nodded his thanks.

Nathan smirked and reached out a hand, dragging Vin to his feet, one dark finger poked the slim figured in the side, and Vin yelped indignantly, trying to scramble away from the medic. Nathan chuckled, muttering soothingly, "Sorry, sorry...I just can't believe you're so damn ticklish!"

Vin scowled at Nathan, before turning and stalking to JD's side, face set in a furious glare. Coming to a stop beside the younger man, who was still held firm by Buck, Vin glowered at him, before a sheepish smile broke across his darkened face.

"Ah...Sorry JD...You were asleep...I wasn't...and then I found a pen..."he shrugged his slim shoulders before repeating "Sorry" almost helplessly.

JD stared at Vin, almost unable to believe that the man thought that was a good enough reason...except that to JD, it made perfect sense.

"Fine...apology accepted...as long as this isn't permanent pen..." JD indicated the scrawl up and down his arms and Vin frowned as he thought for a second before answering.

"No, its water based in...should wash right off...but" JD's smile at the news that it wasn't permanent soured a little at the 'but' and nearly everyone else either winced or flinched; 'but' was one of the most dangerous and unpredictable words in Vin's vocabulary.

Ignoring them, Vin continued, "But...If it doesn't wash off...blame Chris...I just remembered...he gave me the pen." Smiling smugly Vin turned to sit next to Ezra.

JD turned, as much as he could from under Buck's arm, to glare at their boss...and then an SUV came flying around the corner, billowing dust.

And Chris breathed a sigh of relief as he said, "Righto, that's our ride, let's get out of this heat..." and grabbed his and Vins bags before striding purposefully towards the car, and away from JD.

Gathering up their own bags, Josiah offering a hand to Vin, who in turned pulled Ezra to his feet, the six men trudged after Chris, making their way to the SUV.

The vehicle slowed to a stop, gravel crunching under wheel, small dust clouds settling as two men shut their doors after getting out. One of the men, the driver, obviously the elder, threw the keys to his travel partner and moved to the rear of the vehicle, opened the back door and began to unload several bags. The younger, fanning himself from the sudden heat, after the air conditioned interior, paused to pull up his curly shoulder length hair, securing it with a leather band.

The man with the luggage, so obviously military, both in looks and mannerisms was already moving towards the still deserted air field, calling over his shoulder as he went, "Move it Chief, our planes departure time is only a few minutes away and if you want time to make a pit stop behind a tree..."

The younger man hurried over to team 7, "Okay, so, uh...keys ", he handed these to Chris, still talking," Etc etc, ...drive that way for about two- two and a half hours and you come to the complex...there's only one road, so you can't miss it...um...the SUV's air-con is playing up...so you might want to roll the windows...and watch the clutch...it was sticking a bi..."

His helpful rambling was cut off by a comment thrown over the shoulder of his companion, "Come on Darwin, give the man the keys and get a move on...I'm not explaining to Simon why he had to pay for the department chopper to pick us up..."

'Darwin' called back, "All right Jim! The plane won't leave without us...and wonder burger will still be open when we get back home...chill, big guy..." Flashing a quick farewell grin at the team, 'Chief' hurried after his partner.

Looking after them, Chris could feel the powerful strength and potential threat that oozed of the bigger guy like melted cheese from a grilled sandwich...however it was the younger guy that caught his eye.

He looked like a complete flake, with his long curls, yuppie words, colourful clothes and two small gold hoops through one ear lobe, but Chris had the feeling that despite his outwards appearance, the young man would be as much a force to be reckoned with as his partner...it was just, _something_ that Chris had instinctively learned to recognise.

Looking over his own motley group of misfits, he could probably understand why.

Two minutes later and the plane was barrelling down the runway, leaving seven men and one SUV in a clearing, in the middle of nowhere.

After watching the plane disappear into the haze of the horizon, Chris turned back to the men standing around him, noting the slumped shoulders, dejected looks and disgruntled mumbles and decided that it was time to get this show on the road before he had to put up with anymore shenanigans.

Moving to the back of the SUV, he opened the boot and carelessly stowed his and Vin's bags, calling to his still unmoving men, "Bags in the back, let's go! Get a move on, I would like to get there before midnight!" And not having to bother to wait and see if his men were obeying his directions he moved to the driver's side of the vehicle, taking his place behind the wheel.

Within 10 minutes, all the bags were in the boot and the men buckling seat belts. The delay in time was due to Ezra arguing that his bags absolutely had to be on top, and waiting until everyone else had loaded their bags, before gently, carefully squeezing his two large suitcases and overnight bag into the little remaining room of the boot. The true time waster was that no one except JD had been able to get in the car until Ezra was done, because he was sitting in the far back of the vehicle, and no one wanted Ezra climbing all over them to get at his seat, if the 'civilized' man would ever stoop to such an action.

Finally, JD and Ezra were settled in the back, neither complaining, despite the rather cramped space, knowing that none of the other team members were any better suited to sitting there. Vin had tried arguing with Chris to let him sit in the back, being less stocky than Ezra, but Chris, and Nathan had strongly disagreed with the idea, both able to see that Vin was still a bit jumpy from his forced confinement on their recent flight in, a window seat would be best for the tracker. Josiah, as the largest, took the front passenger seat, leaving Nathan between Buck and Vin in the middle section of the vehicle.

Finally the seat swapping, arguing and debating stopped and it seemed that everyone was settled and Chris was able to call over his shoulder as he started the engine, "Right kids, you've all used the loo, and buckled up...?" grinning at the glares and snorts he received, Chris shoved the SUV into first and they tore out of the 'airport' at a sedate pace, leaving a trail of red dust in their wake.

The road, if it could be called that, meandered as a dirt lane, barely wide enough for the heavy treaded wheels of the 4X4, quickly losing sight of the open field and clearings, becoming hidden by the mottled greens, tan and gold of deep bush scrub. Three hours travel time would put their arrival at this 'complex' at just after 8pm, dinner time, and the guys were already looking forward to it.

The first ten minutes were remarkable quiet and sedate as the men took in the rugged beauty of the interior landscape flying past their windows, while enjoying the coolness provided by the air-conditioning and Chris concentrated on driving.

And then the complaining started. Again.

It began with Ezra, which was so beyond typical that no one even bothered to roll their eyes at the man's impeccable whine from the back seat "As striking as the panorama that besieges my eyes, I find it woefully inadequate reparation for a week of unsolicited, superfluous scrutiny at the hands of an unfamiliar and undetermined psychological hack"

Despite the expansive vocabulary, there wasn't one man in the vehicle who didn't grasp the general gist of what the southerner had said; all of the men having felt or said the exact same thing since Orrin had informed them of the nature of their enforced weeks leave. The men, Chris included, didn't have an abundance of spare faith or trust to instil in unknown shrinks or witchdoctors, who's wish in meeting team 7 had nothing to do with easing or assisting any perceived cracks in the men's relationships, but instead, was to have a control basis for creating a much higher playing field in law enforcement officers, something that the men did not believe they would be helpful in creating.

Having said this, and despite the anger he harboured towards the higher ups, knowing what a personal dissection like the one they had coming had done in the past, and would likely do to his team this time, Chris also knew that the time for righteous anger and rebellious complaining was over, this was happening, whether he, or the team liked it or not.

Time to buckle up, shut up, dig in and deal with whatever stupid shit this Dr Miles Weston subjected them to.

He told the boys as much, before Ezra could get too much traction "Enough Ezra. We've been over this... Suck it up...orders are orders" Looking in the rear view mirror, deliberately angled to show a certain southerner, because looking out the rear window was impossible anyway, given all their luggage, Chris had to hide his smile at Ezra's unmistakable put-upon pout as the man settled in for a pure _Ezra_ sulk.

Chris could see that his undercover agent wasn't the only one disgruntled, and changed the subject before _another _argument could begin.

"Vin..." Chris really did smile as Vin perked up from his drowsy rest against the window, watching the landscape slip by, and turned towards the front of the vehicle, blue eyes questioning as he answered the as of yet, unspoke query with a slight tilt of his head and a "_hmmm_?"

"Can you grab your bottle of water from near your feet; I tossed it there as I got in..." Chris asked.

He listened as Vin scrounged around at his and Nathan's feet for a few seconds, before triumphantly producing the now half full water bottle, "Here, found it!"

Grinning back at Vin for a second, Chris answered, "Good...now drink it." At the half bewildered, half belligerent look, Chris expanded his order, wanting the man beside his tracker aware as well, "You've barely had two mouthfuls all day...and you were running around like crazed lunatic in the blistering heat earlier."

Chris rode right over Vins huffy protest of "So were you!" Continuing with, "Yes and I'd already finished my water...and started on yours...so drink it!".

The stubborn look didn't leave Vins face and he looked set to argue, the contents of which Chris could already guess, '_I ain't no baby...can look after m'self...been doi'n it long before you came along Larabee...drink my damn water if I damn-well want to!_'

However, Nathan cleared his throat besides the tracker and glanced pointedly at the bottle clutched tightly in the strong grip, "You've already had hypothermia this year...let's not add hyperthermia..."

Sighing, cheeks tinged pink, aware of the inquisitive eyes on his back, as well as several glances from the front, Vin took the easiest path, and drank the damn water...besides it wasn't that he didn't want the water, in fact he could admit, if only to himself, that it felt darn good going down...it was the principal of the matter.

The matter was adequately settled, but Vin's eyes were hooded and withdrawn, silence reigned for several minutes until JD piped up, "So...I spy with my little eye...something beginning with L" Vin grinned, Ezra groaned, Nate settled back, muttering about _children_ again, and Buck immediately started guessing.

_**Buck: **__Liquorish all-sorts? _

_**JD: **__Nope...you ate those on the plane, remember?_

_**Buck: **__Right, um..._

_**JD: **__Need a hint?_

_**Buck **__NO!_

_**JD: **__Well, what is it then..?_

_**Buck: **__ Hang on a sec...I'm thinking..._

_**Josiah: **__Heaven have mercy on our poor souls!_

_**Buck: **__Funny Josiah. Ha Ha._

_**Josiah: **__I do try..._

_**JD: **__Guess! The letter L!_

_**Buck: **__Fine... Long road?_

_**JD: **__Nope_

_**Buck **__Lights?_

_**JD**__: No..._

_**Buck: **__ Little trees?_

_**JD**__: Buck...You're not even trying!_

_**Buck**__: Okay...Okay...Um; can you see it from where you're sitting?_

_**JD**__: I thought you didn't want a hint?_

_**Buck**__: Arrhg...Now I do...SO...can you see it...?_

_**JD**__: Yes._

_**Buck**__: Okay...Um..._

_**JD**__: But I don't think you can..._

_**Buck**__: Can what..._

_**JD**__: See it from where you are..._

_**Buck**__: Thanks...That's real helpful JD._

_**JD**__: *Shrugs* Sorry?_

_**Buck**__: Of course you are...okay, um...is it big...or little?_

_**JD**__: What is this...20 questions?_

_**Buck**__: Grr... I give in..._

_**JD**__: No wait, fine...it little! Its little, Buck..._

_**Ezra**__: Oh...of all the damnable...the lake? *Gestures out the window*_

_**Buck**__: I can see the lake Ezra..._

_**JD**__: Nope. And the lakes not exactly little either_

_**Ezra**__: *Huffs* Well forgive a gentleman his endeavour..._

_**Nathan**__: Will someone please...of all the juvenile...infantile...a lamb?_

_**Buck**__: Where? I didn't see a lamb!_

_**Ezra**__: A lamb is hardly small either!_

_**Nathan**__: It is compared to a sheep _

_**Ezra**__: Well, a lake is small compared to an ocean_

_**JD**__: Nope...you're wrong anyway._

_**Josiah**__: Oh... the wild lilacs lining the road?_

_**JD**__: They're lilacs?_

_**Josiah**__: *Sigh* Obviously not that either..._

_**Chris**__: Well JD, what is it? Clearly you have some awesome, mind bending spy picked out..._

_**JD**__: Uh Uh...you have to guess...Come on...it's not that hard..._

_**Ezra**__: I beg to differ..._

_**Josiah**__: I second that;_

_**JD**__; Come on, it starts with..._

_**BUCK/EZRA/NATHAN**__: Yes, L...we know..._

_**JD**__: Right...well..._

_**Buck**__: I think you're making it up...or changing as we guess it...!_

_**JD**__: How dare you! I would never...well I would...but I'm not!_

_**Chris**__: *Snort*...Now where have I heard that before?_

_**JD**__: Come on... I swear it's real...and I haven't changed it...not once!_

_**Ezra**__: I am loath to admit...you have me stumped Mr Dunne_

_**Buck**__: No one's going to be able to guess it JD...just tell us_

_**JD: **__*Sigh*...well, I guess...if you're sure...*_

_**BUCK**__/__**Nate/Ezra/Josiah/Chris**__: Yes...tell us!_

_**JD**__: Um well...oh come on guys...no...Really?...okay, okay...fine it's..._

_**VIN**__: The ladybug on the window beside you._

_**Buck**__: Huh?  
><em>

_**JD**__: Yes! Wait...what! How did...when did you know?_

_**Vin**__: After Buck started to think..._

_**JD**__: But why didn't you..._

_**Vin**__: *Shrugs*_

_**JD: **__But...well...alright then...it's your turn I guess..._

_**Buck/Chris/Ezra/Nathan/Josiah: **__NO!_

JD's abrupt humph, and Vins smirk settled the mood in the car, the men quietening as the sun began to dip below the horizon leaving wheals of glorious red and gold spreading out across the sky.

They travelled quietly for several seconds before JD once again piped up, "Uh, guys...does anyone have any water left... I want to try and get this pen off...you know..._before _we get to the complex..."

Several of the guys went scrounging, Chris shook his head and Vin snarked that he'd just been forced to drink his. Just when it seemed that JD might fall into a bit of a tizzy, Ezra came to his rescue, "Mr Dunne, In my satchel is a travel pack of sanitary hand wipes...if you can retrieve them without damaging my luggage you are quite welcome to as many as you require..."

JD grinned thankfully at Ezra, already halfway over the seat trying to get at the bag in question.

After a few attempts JD managed to grab the bag and the wipes from inside and settled back down quietly to scrub the thankfully, non-permanent, water based ink from his body.

Chris decided to take the silence as an opportunity as it had been presented to him, having not yet really broached the topic of their enforced vacation properly. "Okay...so I figure that were about 2 hours out from this resort place...let's just get one thing straight...you will all be on your best behaviour..." as he spoke his green eyes flickered in the rear-view mirror, in particularly making contact with a second pair of green and a glinting blue set, he continued, a little louder over the general grumbles and moans that had erupted "Guys, you know I agree with you 100%, and if there was any way to get out of this...well...but the fact remains that there's not, and orders are orders, whether we like them or not..."

Buck's waspish reply was drowned out by the others arguments and comments, but Chris hadn't quite finished, "No jokes or pranks...nothing...I want to go in, have this shrink... shrink us and then get home and back to work in the shortest order possible, which isn't going to happen if you lot keep sending him off on wild goose chases...like the last three department psychiatrists...just...behave yourselves...this once..."

Silence settled as Chris turned his attention back to the yawning expanse of rutted tarmac before them, letting his message sink in, hoping that they might actually heed his instructions this time.

Yet knowing that was probably a rather futile effort.

The car remained quiet, as each man became lost in his own thoughts; well, except Vin, who went back to dozing, face pressed against the cool window.

A soft muttering from the far back seat was the first true noise for almost 30 minutes, but the muffled whispering from JD was quickly stifled by Ezra.

A few minutes later, and slightly louder, JD's voice half carried into the rest of the SUV "Really think...Ez...Don't look...green..." his voice, a little more insistent and quietly concerned was just as swiftly cut off again, as Ezra's own pitch rose.

"Leave it be...fine...soon" The undercover agent also sounded a little more irritated, and slightly...off.

This went on for several more kilometres, intermittent whispering and silence, until finally Buck couldn't keep his nose out any longer. Turning back, his voice exasperated "Honestly JD, Vin's trying to sleep...and Chris is driving... If Ez ain't interested in doing whatever it is you...uh, Ez...Nate?"

At his name, Nathan pulled himself out of his reverie, filing away the mental list he had been compiling, turning towards the back besides Buck, already curious about the concern he heard in Bucks voice.

Nathan stared into the rear seat, specifically at one of its tenants, and then abruptly turned to the front, "Chris...you need to stop...Ezra's not feeling well..."

Ignoring Ezra's hitched breathy reply of "I assure you Mr Jackson...I am fine...Really, Mr Larabee, no need to stop..." Chris pulled the car over, braking gently into a cleared stretch beside the road.

"Fine! Fine my ass...for god's sake Ezra...you're clammy...shaky...and about as green as Kermit's ass..."

The SUV ghosted to a stop and Chris turned back in his own seat, voice riding over the top of the already disagreeing Ezra "Ezra...listen to Nathan...Nathan...fix him."

Twenty minutes later and the SUV pulled back onto the road, if it could indeed, be called that. Ezra, doped to the gills on carsick meds was safely ensconced in the front seat, window cracked, less green than Kermit's ass, by far, although still decidedly pale. Josiah, his seat now taken, had moved into Bucks spot by the left middle window, and Buck had agreed to sit in the back with JD, despite it being a tight squeeze. Vin's offer to sit in the back, although making the most sense size wise, had been simultaneously vetoed by Chris and Nathan.

A relatively easy fix, the problem was dealt with in no time; but still, a further 20 minutes away from 'arriving', any residual sunlight long gone, the road becoming more gutted and pot-holed by the metre and a rather queasy, therefore grouchy Ezra all exacerbated by the ridiculous early morning, cramped 11 hour flight, awful airplane food, extreme close proximity to each other for said hours, and the impending week of horror, well... tempers were on short restraint, nerves flayed and personal sensitivity high.

And then the air-conditioning spazzed, sputtered, and coughed; and the blissfully cooling stream of air was gone, leaving only the blistering heat of the dark SUV, and the sticky humidity of cramming 7 men into one vehicle.

It did not take long for the vehicle to become a mobile sauna, or the men to become bathed in sweat, the rapidly heated air also seemed to heat a few tempers as well.

JD snarked that Buck was on his side of the seat, Nathan argued with Vin to get him to take his always present leather jacket off, Vin groused about the Nathan's grousing...sighing, Chris wound down all the windows and was thankful that the sun had gone down, this was bad enough; midday heat would have been unbearable.

By the time Vin's hawk-eyes detected the faint glow of light in the distance, almost an hour later, presumably from their destination, the temperature in the car was boiling, and the temperaments equally frosty. Buck and JD had stopped arguing about the lack of space and who deserved the most seat because of his size, and had progressed to just plain ignoring each other instead, staring out the windows, the silence more unnerving than the arguing.

The centre of the SUV also lacked the usual air of friendly camaraderie; instead Vin slumped into his seat, muted blue gaze not leaving his booted feet, face drawn with guilt and sulking bad humour. Beside him, arms crossed, face weary with exasperation and irritation was a disgruntled Nathan. Perhaps the strangest was Josiah, huge frame scrunched into his corner of the seat, shrouded with quiet anger and unbecoming antagonism.

Vin had taken his jacket off, or rather, had basically been manhandled out of it by Nathan, stubbornness determining that despite the heat, once Nathan made a point about the Jacket, Vin was unable to simply _give in._

Josiah was sporting a rather fearsome scowl, strangely out of place on his usually gentle face, although the bruise already forming across one cheek might have had something to do with his dark countenance. Said bruise was courtesy of Vin's fist, and although accidental, this was also the cause of Vin's guilt.

Thankfully, one of the main trouble stirrers was in the front passenger seat and therefore could not overly aggravate the situation in the back; however this also meant that Chris was on the receiving end of every grumble, groan and sharp tongued complaint that Ezra, still unduly frustrated as a result of his sudden illness, could come up with.

Chris sighed, hands clenching on the wheel, eyes glued to the growing lights through the front windscreen. He knew it would do more harm than good to say anything, either positive or negative; the team was just too worked up over this whole debacle, let alone the injustice of having to travel 11 hours by air and a further, he checked his watch..._four...four!..._four hours by this unholy path someone had the gall to designate a road.

Glancing at his watch again, noting that it was headed for 10pm, Chris tried to ignore the uncomfortable grumble of his empty stomach and the rustle from the back as Vin searched through his bag for any hidden snacks he'd missed earlier. Their dinner at the resort had been scheduled for 8pm, but with a glance into the back at the tired, frustrated, angry, hungry horde he was bringing with him...he hoped that the complex staff had food of some description waiting for them..._for their own sake._

***On with the story***

Miles glanced at the small silver clock gracing his desk for about the 40th time in as many minutes, wondering at the lateness of the evening, and also wondering exactly where his latest evaluative team was.

Because they were not here, and they were meant to be here...almost 2 hours ago, infact.

He knew that the road in form the airstrip was not all that hospitable, but still, two hours? He knew that his earlier pair had gotten away safely because George, the pilot had radioed his departure in, and as far as he knew, the SUV had left, for all intents and purposes, on time.

At first he had assumed that they were driving slow because they didn't know the area, and then he thought they might have had a flat tire or something, but the vehicle was fully outfitted with all the appropriate mechanical tools for most on the go repairs, and he'd bet his bottom dollar that at least one of the 7, probably more, was perfectly capable of at least routine vehicle fixes. So at first he hadn't worried. But now they were almost 2 hours late and he was starting to worry.

Miles was unable to help envisioning various disastrous scenarios in which he had to ring Travers and explain that he had been unable to complete his evaluative assessment because he had lost the ATF's head team somewhere in the middle of the Bavington forest.

And then Halleluiah! Head lights on the ridge.

Miles phoned down to the kitchens to let them know that 7 men, most probably ravenous, would be arriving in about 20 minutes, and to please have their meals ready, before he headed to the alcove balcony above the dining room, and settled in, well out of sight, pen and pad in hand, to begin his first oblivious observation session.

He watched through the open landing doors as the SUV pulled to a stop outside, the vehicle was switched off and sat silent for several minutes before anyone exited. Miles would have liked to have known exactly what was being said, and by whom inside that vehicle, but for now he would satisfy his curious nature with tonight's introductions and behavioural characteristics.

Miles had a very distinct, practical way of evaluating and helping the teams he saw in his line of work, and the first was to have a very basic, preliminary scope of each member and their role within the team, but to remain unbiased by any outside information and beliefs, which was why despite knowing for instance that JD Dunne was the technical expert of the team, Miles wouldn't have had a hope in hell of recognising the man should he walk past him downtown somewhere.

Any further contemplation was shelved as the driver's door opened and the first of the team got out. Being the driver, Miles assumed that he was a shoe in for Chris Larabee, team leader, however, from everything he had heard and read about this man, Miles was strangely disappointed with the completely average looking man who stood there with his loose blond hair, dark green shirt and worn jeans, for some reason, Miles had been expecting the man's personality...his _being_...to completely engulf the surrounding area and the people within it.

Before he could focus much more on the man who was stretching tiredly and scratching at a spot on his lower back, the rear door opened behind the driver's seat and another man emerged. Miles whistled under his breath in appreciation for the man's sheer _size, _not fat or weight, but pure bulk. Tall and broad shoulder, the silvery hair at his temples, highlighted by the patio light did nothing to dissuade from the man's threatening persona. Once again scoping the man's size, Miles figured that he had to be the team's biggest member, after all, looking at the guy from the front seat and his own barely 6" frame..._ they just don't make 'em like that anymore. _The psychiatrist also assumed thathe was most likely one of the team's main enforcers.

The big man turned back to the car and yanked on something and then stepped back as the back seat slid forward allowing one of the men sitting in the far back to exit. Miles had to eat his previous thoughts almost immediately, this man was a good few years younger than the huge man, and more tapered at the waist, but still, he was a bit taller and also built like an ox. What the hell did they feed these guys in Denver? Miles waited for someone else to exit the back seat, figuring that there was someone else due to the number of men, but no one else emerged. Finally the younger man who had just gotten out stuck his head back in the car, gesturing pointedly.

Filing whatever commotion was going on away for later conversation, Miles attention was drawn as the opposite front door opened, although he couldn't see who exited as the far side of the vehicle was in the dark. He waited for a second and was rewarded as team member number four rounded the bull bar of the SUV, stepping into the full light. Miles was thankful that this guy, who appeared to be about 26, also appeared to be of average or slightly less than average height, although the strength in the stocky frame was visible from where he sat. The new comer was busy trying to get his tangled chestnut hair back into some sort of dignified order, taking a closer look; Miles decided that he might have to alert his medical officer if number 4 didn't improve soon. His pallor was unhealthily pale, even in the dark, and Miles could see where sweat had stained his shirt, of which the sleeves were rolled up. As the man moved to lean against the vehicle tiredly, uncaring of the dust that coated his outfit, Miles attention shifted back to where young big guy had been dealing with something going on in the SUV.

Whatever it was it seemed to have worked because, another man was getting out of the back, presumably the guy who had been sitting next to young big man. The first thing Miles noticed about him was that he could have been young big man's younger brother..._so that would make him younger young big man..._except he wasn't all that big either, but with the same body shape, hair and gesture, miles would have called them brothers if he hadn't known better. The smaller man, boy really; but man by declaration of his profession, couldn't be more than 25, and Mile's would have guessed 23 if asked, which seemed awfully young for a law enforcement, however seeing how he interacted with younger big man, it was obvious that young or not, he was one of them.

Miles counted five, and knew that there were two more in the SUV, and couldn't help but speculate at the unusual amount of time it took these seven to get out of the SUV, looking at the driver who was shaking his head and looked to be demanding something of someone within the vehicle, Miles wondered if this was routine behaviour.

Finally number six stepped out, clutching what looked to be a leather jacket, holding it well out of the reach of number seven who had angrily followed him out. #6 was another giant freak of nature, although Miles did notice, just in passing, that he was the only African American on the team, #7 was smaller, and although not overly short, probably 5'8 or 9, and was by no means fragile, he was still below average height and was definitely the most slender team member.

Stereotypically, the long hair, shoulder length at least, and the smaller size put this guy as one of the least physically able men on the team, however, something about that assumption seemed a little off to Miles. Besides, even if number 7 was physically the weak link, all ATF members were capable of defending themselves, and there was a huge variety of skills beyond the physical.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Miles watched the arrival play out as #7 again attempted to get the jacket from #6, who wasn't giving it up. Normally Miles would think that #6 was having a joke, or teasing, perhaps even bully #7, however something in the angry expression of #7 and the exasperated body language of #6 said otherwise. Finally giving up, the dark man handed the jacket to the driver, and the team dynamic shifted immediately. The driver said a few words and tucked the jacket under his arm and #7 moved to slump sulkily besides the ill looking man.

Interesting.

Miles wondered why the change in behavioural characteristics, was it a result of the drivers authority or the sudden appearance of the complex's arrival and check in clerk, Andrew McDougal?

***On with the story***

Chris also leant against the vehicle by Ezra and Vin, watching as a man, perhaps 30 years old approached the SUV, turning to Ezra, he asked quietly, "You feeling any better Ez?" gaze wandering over the still pale face. Ezra nodded and answered in the affirmative. Chris went on, "Nathan reckons it was the airplane food...and the fact that you didn't actually eat any before getting in the car on an empty stomach for a four hour rollercoaster ride...make sure you eat something at dinner...and tell Nathan if you're not right by morning...got it?"

Knowing Ezra's grudging nod was the best he was going to get Chris turned to his other companion, "And You!"He hid smile as Vin's eyes whipped to his, knowing it wouldn't be well received, "Do you promise not to put it on if I give this back to you?" he asked, gesturing to the jacket, eyebrow raised.

Vin snarled but nodded, already reaching for it. Chris wanted to say something along the lines of:

_I mean it Vin, Nathan's right and you have all the sense of a damn hamster when it comes to being reasonable...you'd rather end up with a life threatening illness rather than accept that maybe one of us might actually be right...too goddamn stubborn for your own good...Mr goddamn Independence_

All he said was, "Good" and handed the jacket over. He watched as Vin tucked the jacket under his own arm, and knew that if he had said any of that, the jacket would have been back on Vin in a matter of seconds.

Their arrival welcome party finally got close enough to be heard and called to them, "Hi, welcome to Max's resort...you'll be checking in with me tonight, and I'm also the guy you see if you need anything...I'm Andrew McDougal...call me Andy."

Buck moved towards Andy, he offered a hand, "Buck. Please tell me you're going to feed the ravenous beasts?" his dark head tilted back towards the others and JD thumped him on the arm, "Hey!"

Buck looked at him, "Well, are you hungry or not?"

JD scowled, but didn't get a chance to answer as Andrew jumped in, "Well dinner is at 8, but don't worry, I think the chef's scrounged something up for you...if you come this way, I'll take you to the dining hall...don't worry about your bags, I'll have Colin and Dennis put them away..." he continued speaking as he led the 7 men into the building, "Colin's my eldest,15 next month and Dennis just turned 12...also got little Anna, but she's just 4...the boys don't mind helping out for a bit of pocket-money now and then...right, here we are, the dining hall...if you want to choose a table the chef will be out to speak with you in a moment."

As one the 7 men moved to the nearest round table big enough for all of them and sat down, glad to finally be here, even if they didn't actually want to be here.

***On with the story***

Miles watched as team 7 entered the dining hall, he could tell that tempers were high and all was not 100% between the men, which was exactly what he had hoped would happen.

After all there is no greater emotional truth than anger.

Miles had been using the same technique since he became an accredited psychiatrist, because it always worked.

Each team, group, company, family, etc, flew into the airstrip, and then had to endure a gruelling three hour trip through unfamiliar territory crammed into the same vehicle as their work mates, and all said work mates annoying habits, foul language, bad BO and mountains of luggage, needless to say, no matter how well the teams got on there was always an issue or problem that arose; and the anger that came with such problems was what Miles wanted to observe.

Whatever Miles saw over the course of dinner and the introductory period in the next hour or so would tell him exactly what the team didn't want him to know; the truth. Anger, frustration and irritation such as this, deep seated and concealed the majority of the time always took a few hours to be re-hidden, pushed back beneath a cover of smiles and acceptance.

The stress, anger, hunger and fatigue that the teams were experiencing when they arrived gave Miles what he liked to call his control observation, or observation Zero. How the team truly felt about one another, when there was no 'good behaviour' in front of strangers, no pretences and no lies, just good old, unbridled honesty, visible in each team members body language as they arrived and sat through their first meal at Max's Resort.

All observed by Miles Weston, who unknown to the team, made his preliminary evaluations right then and there, in the hidden alcove above the dining hall.

From this concealed position he could see any table in the dining hall, without the worry that his presence may be discovered. Miles could watch as behavioural ticks, ill-conceal movements and characterisations gave away how the team truly felt and interacted with each other. He couldn't hear what was being said, by choice, as he didn't want his preliminary observations marred by words, as they rarely matched the relevant body language, because; as they always say _actions speak louder than words._

Putting pen to paper, Miles began to scrawl down his observations:

_Observation Zero__ Denver ATF - Team 7_

_Team 7 arrived 1.4 hours late to their scheduled dinner time, the cause of this delay to be determined at a later date._

_Obvious anxiety and disquiet among the team._

_-Particularly between young big man and 'brother'_

_- #7 (long hair) seems reticent of #6 (African-A) and driver?_

_- All show signs of fatigue and hunger._

_-Ill-man? Seems upset with all of them- usual or situational- exacerbated by illness?_

_-Seems to be no general hierarchy to seating pattern- equality or dis-placement amongst group?_

_-Anger palpable, seemingly in disaccord with the amount of stress inflicted? _

_-Deeper issues?_

Looking up from his pad, Miles watched as the dinner unfolded below him. The team was obviously beyond tired and stressed, and their tempers were running high, Miles knew it was a perfect chance to get a look at exactly what made team 7 run, and what problems lay beneath their carefully constructed facade of perfection.

Miles knew that no team was perfect- and he was going to prove it.

He watched as Younger brother man shoved at older brother man, trying to get him to slump on his own placemat in mock, well mostly mock, fatigue. What could have been perceived as a joking reaction by many was revealed to Miles as a truly irritated and angry reaction from the smaller man.

Ill Man was glaring at the dark man, obviously arguing a point, the determined independence in his gaze a stark show of ill concealed anger, but was it directed towards dark man, or himself?

#7 had folded his jacket on his seat and then proceeded to sit on it, which told Miles that the jacket wasn't the source of the disagreement, but rather the principal of the matter. Driver was shaking his head in exasperation, but did nothing to soothe any frayed nerves or offer any calming words, pushing him further from the frame of possible leader.

If he had to hazard a guess, Miles would probably suggest Big Big man as the leader, he was older, and had a rough and ready look on his still scowling countenance. And now that Miles was looking at him in particular, he could tell that Big Big man held some sort of deep seated anger towards #7.

Looking back down, scrawling a few more notes and some specific examples of their anger, Miles looked back up wanting more details to base his evaluation on, then promptly dropped his pen, eyes boggling, as all he had just written was tossed out the window.

The chef had arrived with the 7's meals, which she was happily handing out to the eagerly waiting team.

The change in the scene was almost palpable from this distance, older brother man was grinning at his head chef as the 71 year old handed him his meal, younger brother man was digging older brother man in the ribs with an elbow while trying to get at his own dinner, eyes visibly bright and happy from where Miles sat.

Big Big man was smiling, which now that Miles saw it, he could easily recognise it as the expression most familiar to that weathered face, rather than the fierce scowl from before. Ill man was still arguing with dark man, but any vehemence was gone as he petulantly gave in and ate the meal the dark man was gesturing at, which appeared to be soup or broth. #7 was trying to give his bread roll to Big Big man, gesturing at his face whilst he did so, but Big big man was indicating that he though #7 needed it more, patting his stomach with ample intent. #7 scowled before grinning with a shrug and pulling 2 more rolls from his lap. Big Big man laughed and accepted the offered token of peace.

The driver was sitting back and watching the meal progress, his own the last to arrive, leaning forward he snagged one of #7 rolls, grinning at the mock growl that he was rewarded with as #7 leaned forwards to guard his plate.

Staring down at them, Miles realised his earlier observations had all been wrong, he'd been after the truth at the heart of their anger, but instead had been blinded by his own misconceived notion that they were a team.

If these men had ever been a team, it wasn't for a very long time...now they were family.

And family had a whole other set of rules.

Anger didn't release the truth, as the relationships went much deeper that superficial friendliness, anger only blurred the much deeper feelings of love and affection. Miles knew only too well that team members could conceal all kinds of dislike and hate; family, not so much.

Anger in families was much harder to define, in reality there were to types;

1- When the family becomes so angry, furious that it starts to cease the tethers of love. This is usually when estrangement happens, as it becomes too painful to see the one you now hate to love.

2-Fury, irritation, anger deep and passionate, usually concealing hurt, that is fleeting and easily accepted or forgotten. Like two sisters who can scream and yell all manners of hateful, insulting matter at each other one instant, and the next be doing each other's hair, all anger genuinely and honestly forgotten or accepted.

Miles knew he had just seen Team 7 exhibit all the markers of type 2 familial anger.

Perhaps he really would have something interesting to write about- the way to duplicate team 7?

Turn the other teams into families.

***On with the story***

30 minutes later and the men had had just finished their meals, Buck still using his last bread roll to wipe any remaining drops of gravy from his plate, when the chef came back into the room. Buck immediately swallowed his mouthful and began to wax poetical about her kitchen prowess.

She blushed, but to her credit she didn't titter or giggle, instead she shook her head fondly at the table of handsome men, saying "You flatter an old girl like me with all those pretty eyes...here now, if you're all done, Miles...I mean Dr Weston will meet you in conference room one for a few minutes...now off you go before I find out if _you_ have any dishwashing prowess!..." she began to gather the plates as the men, who didn't need to be told twice got up and left, each flashing her grins and thanks in his own unique style.

***On with the story***

Filing into the conference room, which thankfully, hadn't been hard to find, once JD had spotted the signs on the walls, the men were welcomed by Dr Miles Weston, PhD.

The room was almost bare, just eight seats in a circle and a table with the makings for coffee and jugs of cold water by the far wall.

As they entered the room Miles got to his feet, and standing in the middle of the circle he began the week long observation and evaluation course by saying, "Hi, Denver ATF, Team 7?" Receiving general nods from the group, Miles continued, "Okay... Welcome to Max's ...I'm Dr Weston, but you're welcome to call me West, or Miles if you prefer...I understand that you had an _interesting_ trip out here and that its quite late, so we'll keep this nice and brief...if you will just take a seat, we'll do a quick meet and greet and then call it a night..."

Sitting back down in his own seat, the, the doctor waited as the 7 men took their own seats, noticing that #7 waited until the driver sat before sitting on his left and then ill man sat on #7's left. Miles was seated beside ill man and Dark man sat on Miles's left. Big Big man sat on the other side of Dark man, who, in turn, was beside Big Big man. Younger brother sat beside Big Big man and older brother sat between younger brother and the driver. They were almost coordinated in their approach, and Miles made a mental note to watch for any other instances of this behaviour, _and for god's sake...to hurry up and learn their names!_

A few seconds later and everyone seemed settled, and Miles began the introductions.

"Okay, you lot all know each other, so this is really just for me on principal, so short and sweet, give me a basic introduction...for example...I'm Miles Weston, I have a PhD in psychiatry, I've been employed by several law enforcement agencies as a consultant for the past 10 years or so...and I currently live here, at Max's...and then a short Q& A period...so, any questions?"

Ezra, or _ill man, _as Miles knew him, immediately asked, "When and where were you certified?"

Miles looked startled for an instant, as if he hadn't expected them to actually ask questions, before grinning and answering, "I graduated from Yale, with honours in 1984"

Ezra had already done the calculation in his head, when he asked, just to clarify, "So you were 22 when you graduated, and are 43 now?"

Miles nodded, already asking, "You know the year I was born?", wondering at ill-mans interrogative queries.

Looking directly at Weston, Ezra answered, "I never walk into anything unprepared, If I can help it..." he glanced at his team mates as he continued, "and I don't let them do it either..." The statement was a little ambiguous in its tone, Miles wasn't sure if the man was just stating a fact or actually goading him, which for a psychiatrist was rather disconcerting.

_Mental note-_ inquisitive_, sharp and practical_

Miles smiled as he catalogued this little titbit of information, answering, "So you think you already know everything you would think to ask" waiting to see how open the team was.

Surprisingly, it wasn't ill man, but younger brother man who answered, "If by everything you mean the fact that we know You're mother was Judith Harish, until she married 24 year old Hank Pinking at 21, Your older brother Samuel was born 10 months later, your older twin sisters, Mary and Louise a further 18 months, then you 3 years later, you also had a younger sister, Abigail, but she passed on at the age of 6 from pneumonia...you attended Peters School for boys in 19..."

Laughing, hands up in surrender, Miles cut in, "Okay, fair enough, you do know my basic story...I'm impressed...well, that makes it your turn...let's start here to my right..." Turning to Ezra expectantly.

Ezra glanced at Chris, and then met Partner in crimes eyes before grinning and replying, "Sure, I'll go first...I'm Vin Tanner, I'm the sharpshooter, weapons expert and tracker for the team...any questions"

Miles was too busy looking appraisingly at Ezra to notice the real Vin Tanners grin, or Chris's eye roll. Eyes gazing at the innocent green gaze, the unassuming body language and the light smile, Miles couldn't see any deception, but he never would have picked this well coifed, articulate young man as a weapons expert...and nor did he seem the outdoorsy type. Digging a little deeper, Miles asked "Okay, How old are you and where did you grow up, tell me about your family..."

Ezra, as Vin, shot a quick glance towards the real Vin, but seeing only acceptance he continued with his charade, "I'm between 22 and 25, and I lived with my mom until I was 5, before living with my grandpa until I was 8...after that it was mostly foster care homes until I enlisted in the army... I was honourably discharged 3 years ago, and joined Chris's ATF team... been here ever since"

Miles studied 'Vin' closely, but saw no falsehood, no hesitation on some of the more allusive details, other than a slight pause before he began... "Okay, nice to meet you Vin..." he turned to the Real Vin, saying, "Right your next...just do as Vin did..."

Vin grinned as he nodded and introduced himself, "Hello, I'm Josiah Sanchez...and I'm the team profiler and demolitions expert?"

Chris almost flinched at the bizarity of what his two trouble makers were up to, of all the...way to get off on the right foot.

Miles nodded, "Okay...profiler...I assume that means you've got a little of my background?" he asked, genuinely curious as to what the profiler part of the job entailed, it had been something he'd thought of looking into on more than one occasion himself.

'Josiah' grinned and answered, "Well, no formal psychiatry training, although I'm working on that degree at the moment" most of the men missed how the real Josiah's eyes widened at that, he'd though no one knew, but 'Josiah' was already continuing "I tested out of many of the Profiling training courses, seems I picked up some natural experience during my days as a preacher, but there's still a fair bit of course work to go, at this point in time the title of profiler is a little premature, but it will be more than honorary before long"

Miles knew that a lot of teams weren't so honest in their abilities, and made a mental note of this, before turning to the next man, the driver, "Okay thanks Josiah, I hope we'll get a chance to talk a little more while you're her...okay, next person..."

Chris sighed and sat up straighter, and knowing the others would give him hell for this later said, "Good evening, I'm Ezra Standish...I fill the roles of undercover operative, events coordinator and micro-manager..."

Miles started at the well spoke man before him, as much as he'd tried not to be exposed to material that might bias him, Ezra Standish was one name he had heard before, but he just hadn't imagined the man like this in his mind's eye, the vocabulary was spot on, but the man's general unassuming posture and bearing...well not what he'd been expecting.

Before Miles had a chance to say anything, 'Ezra' continued, obviously having realised that Miles knew some of his story, "I assume you recognise my name...? Is there a problem? " his voice was almost frosty, and if Miles had been looking at another set of green eyes, he would have seen them drop in pleased embarrassment of the defence. Instead, Miles was suddenly drawn in by the fire lit within the previously calm eyes, and realised that the unassuming, understated persona he had seen since 'Ezra' arrived was really just a cage, the lion was within. He didn't think he wanted to let that lion out.'

"No, no problem at all, I heard about the Atlanta business through the office...just talk...What I believe doesn't matter...ATF trust you, and that's good enough for me...now...Micro-manager...what exactly is that..." he answered with honesty, deducing, correctly,, that this team would appreciate it more than fake pleasantries.

'Ezra' grinned again, "Well fundamentally it means that I supervise any and all projects or operations that we are involved in from an administrative side..." Seeing the bamboozled look on Miles face, he clarified, "I dot the I's and cross the T's...ensure that no loopholes remain for the felon and that everything is done according to regulation and standard...by the book..."

Miles was nodding, "Okay, Nice to meet you Ezra...right...your next..." he said, indicating JD.

JD sat up straighter, he'd been practising this in his head for the last 10 minutes, and he knew he could make it believable. "Hi, I'm Buck Wilmington...I'm the certified pilot and safety protocol officer... and of course, all-American stud."

His articulation, pronunciation and imitation were spot on; it was Baby Bucklin in the flesh.

Miles looked stumped for an instant, before grinning, "Ladies man, right? Well every team has one...You look quite young to be on such an established team..."

'Buck' grinned, quipping, "I look younger than I am...so any questions?"

Miles leaned back as he observed the 'stud', finally he asked, "What exactly is a safety protocol officer?"

JD grinned, _score!_, before answering "Basically, I evaluate circumstances for structural or environmental hazards before and as we complete an op or defuse a situation...I say, that building might collapse...or that rock doesn't look stable...and then we assess the situation before going in."

Miles nodded, "Makes sense" he said before turning his gaze to Josiah, "Right your turn..."

Josiah nodded ad began to introduce himself, "Hi, I'm Nathan Jackson...I'm the team medic and I suppose blades expert..."

Miles grinned as he answered, "So I suppose it's your job to patch these guys up when they get into trouble?"

'Nathan' grimaced, "Yes...that's about the gist of it...although I do my fair share of damage to others as well...comes with the job I suppose..."

Miles nodded in sympathy, but in all honesty he was impatient to get to the last man's introduction, to 'Nathan' he said "I can understand that dilemma...it's nice to meet you Nathan...Okay it's getting late...Luck last..." he turned to the real Nathan.

"Chris Larabee." And that was all he said.

Miles however was nodding as he expanded it himself, "Team leader...okay...you've got 6 extraordinary men who work beneath you, the best record any ATF team has held for casualty to bust rate, How does this make you feel..."

'Chris', all but snarled, "Tired..." as he tried not to meet the real Chris's eyes.

Miles's smile drooped a little, he heard that Larabee could be a real asshole, but still, he had expected the man to at least behave reasonably to begin with... though, Miles supposed that Chris hadn't earned the name 'Black Larabee' by being sweet.

Bubble deflating, Miles made another attempt to get the man to cooperate, "Fair enough, it is getting quite late...just a little longer...You chose your own team right?...An unusual practice in the ATF buroe, and considering the original prospects of a few of your team members...are you able to tell me why the brass let you have your own way on this poi..."

Miles question was cut off by 'Chris' and the frost in his voice was audible, "What_ original prospects..._"

Warning bells were going off in his head as Miles scrawled a mental note in capitals: PROTECTIVE. PROTECTIVE. PROTECTIVE

He was quick to apologise, "No offence meant, whatever reasons you chose your team, there is no doubt that you are very effective and highly successful...I'm just trying to get some background on the forming of the team..." he placated.

'Chris' looked across at the real Chris who nodded, and Nathan turned back to Miles, "Well understand this, I don't like _anyone_ sizing up or tearing down my team but me...and that goes for all of us...however if you want an answer to your question about the brass...that's above my head and out of my jurisdiction,...you'd have to ask Chris Larabee..."

Miles wasn't sure what answer he was expecting, but that wasn't it, "I'm sorry, excuse me...if You're not Chris Larabee...then who are you and why isn't he here?"

Nathan grinned, and the change was incredible, gone was the stern badass that Miles was sure was Chris Larabee, replaced with a smiling, if tired man, "Sorry Doc, we've got a bit of a mind game working here...see, we were also evaluating you...I'm Nathan Jackson, and that glum ass over there is Chris Larabee," Nathan pointed to Chris, who smiled softly, and Miles realised that the driver, the unassuming, boring Driver, who also happened to be a caged tiger was in actuality, Chris Larabee.

Too many goddamn names!

Shaking his head, and Glaring at the real Ezra, who as far as he could tell, was the instigator, he demanded, "What was the point of that! I'm trying to get an unbiased, clear evaluation of your team and you guys skew-whiff all my data! "

Ezra just smiled, a small Cheshire cat grin, as he answered, "My understanding of the motivation for this week's activities is to form an evaluation of this teams working ability and success rate...we were merely demonstrating exactly how well we know each other... Well enough to fool a perfect stranger that we are someone else in the room" his grin grew, "Besides...Its late, We're all exhausted, We've been up since 4am, Chris has been driving for the past 4 hours and didn't sleep on the plane, Vin hasn't done more than doze and I'm not felling 100%...basically, It was fun."

Miles sighed, "I suppose it does give me a unique insight into your teams perception of each other...okay...actually it was very interesting, I might have to use this in later evaluations...sorry, got sidetracked there...alright...if I could just get you to give me your actual names, because you really don't want to know how bamboozled my brain is right now." He grinned in excitement as he indicated that Ezra should start.

"Ezra Standish"

"Vin Tanner"

"Chris Larabee"

"JD Dunne"

"Buck Wilmington"

"Josiah Sanchez"

"Nathan Jackson"

Miles smiled as it all fell into place in his head, and then recounting he turned to the JD and said, "I didn't get an introduction about the real you...do you mind..."

JD grinned and went to answer, when Buck jumped in, "Nope JD, you've had a turn, its mine...I'll introduce you..." he looked to Miles for confirmation, and taking the grin of delight as such he started.

"Okay, He's John Daniel Dunne, but everyone calls him JD, and at 23 he's the baby of the team...he lives in my spare room, although, perhaps I actually lives in JD's spare house, because I don't think either of us actually own the place...hmm, he's our resident technical genius...which makes him invaluable to the team because most of us are as about as techno minded as a hamster wheel...and that's JD in a nutshell."

JD groaned and rolled his eyes skyward, Buck just laughed and Miles grinned, he liked this twist on the general meet and greet, more and more.

"Pleased to meet you JD...pleased to meet all of you...and that just about wraps us for tonight...and..." Miles looked at his watch, and continued "as its going on 12pm, I think it's time to call it a night...your all welcome to sleep in tomorrow, we'll meet at 11:30am in the dining hall...Andy will show you to your rooms, I hope you enjoy your stay with us."

He watched as they filed out again, all obviously tired, but he was optimistic about the fact that he didn't see a single frown.

_Mental note: I just got Shrunk by Denver ATF- Team 7._

_And I'm the psychiatrist._

_**A/N**_

**Finally the end of Chapter 1.**

**Please please review if you want *need* more- you guys absolutely make my day.**

Also- profuse, from the bottom of my heart apologies for the time this took- god I hate writers block.

Next chapter—some activities that are hopefully humorous as well as heartfelt- difficult combination to do well. Please let me know if I'm hitting or missing the mark.


	3. Scent of Sense

_**Psychobabble **_

_Disclaimer: If only..._

A/N-**I had so much trouble writing this. Seriously. I hate writers block.**

But...here it is!

**Chapter 2: Scent of Sense**

It was drizzling; so it was cold, damp and miserable outside...or at least that's what Chris was telling himself...all in all, it made for the perfect morning for a sleep in. So naturally, Chris was wide awake at the butt-crack of dawn, unable to get back to sleep, despite the lack of need to actually _be anywhere or do anything._

Sighing and rolling over for the tenth time in as many minutes, he gave the game up for lost, shoving the covers off him and getting up, discarding any hope for further sleep. Deciding that if he was up, he'd might as well actually be up, he grabbed his toiletries bag and headed for the bathroom, day now firmly, if reluctantly, underway.

Showered, shaved and dressed 20 minutes later, Chris left the bathroom, headed towards the little kitchenette, glancing at the bedside clock; he noted that it was now... oh, all of 6:10am.

He only had another 6 or so hours to kill before meeting with the others in the dining hall.

He turned the lock on the room door, and unhooked the chain as he passed, turning into the kitchen,

After opening two of the three small cupboards in the kitchen he managed to locate the plain ceramic coffee mugs typical of most overnight accommodation; he kneed the door shut, placing the mug on the laminate bench top with a soft 'chink'. The single serve instant coffee sachets, while not being up to Ezra's Italian grind standards, certainly outshone Vin's 'home-brand' swill, and Chris decided that he could cope with the offerings.

He half-filled the small electric kettle, and pressed the knob on the base, waiting until the orange light flickered on before turning to add the coffee and sugar to the mug and then pulled the small milk carton from the fridge.

Hitching a hip on the bench, he leant against the counter as he waited for the kettle to boil.

He stirred the cup a minute later, reaching over the raised bar to place it on the small two place table filling most of the remaining floor space in the room, however, instead of sitting he turned back into the kitchen, stooping to pull out another mug, adding two unopened coffee sachets and four sugars in it before leaving the whole thing unmade on the bench, heading around the counter to sit at the table.

Relaxing at the small table, warm mug in hands, steaming heaven only inches away, Chris let his mind wander, roaming the calm serenity of the early morning, knowing that the peace and tranquillity was unlikely to last much past mid-morning.

Gazing about his 'base' for the next week, he mentally mapped the room; he'd done it briefly last night, however it had been rather late and he'd been so exhausted that apart from noting all possible exit and entry points, and anything that may be used as a weapon, he'd not really paid attention to anything else.

It was actually quite a large room, despite being a standard double. He supposed it was an 'L' shape, although the corner of the shape was much larger than the two extended 'arms' on each side. The door opened into this larger area, which was the lounge room, a small two seater sofa and glass top coffee table, a floor lamp and the generously sized wall mounted flat screen television the only furniture.

One end of the 'L' was the bedroom and bathroom; halfway down the wide room were two king singles parallel each other, both headboards were adorned with nick-knack shelving and a bedside light. Behind the beds, the room had been walled off, and the door to the bathroom was between the beds. Shower, toilet and mirrored vanity were hidden in the end room.

The other 'arm' of the 'L' was the small kitchenette; fridge/freezer, sink and several small cupboards and drawers with the basic kitchen utensils and cutlery. The small table Chris was currently relaxing at resided against the wall, between the kitchen and the lounge.

He knew that all four rooms the team had been allocated were pretty much identical, and last night they hadn't really even chosen rooms or roommates, they'd all been so tired that the they'd just crashed in one of the allocated rooms, Nathan and Josiah, Buck and JD, Vin and Ezra and finally Chris on his own.

Having his own room may have just been luck of the draw, but Chris was thankful for the peace and quiet of it now, bringing the cup to his lips he breathed the rich aroma, taking a sip, a blissful sigh escaping, after the hell of yesterday's trip, he was glad for the solitude.

He'd just placed the mug back on the table, glancing at the encroaching orange on the horizon through the window, when the door opened, and peaceful solitude became peaceful companionship. Vin, dressed in warn jeans, blue collared polo and the ever present leather jacket, toed his boots off by the door, making a beeline for the kitchen. Deeming the water to still be warm enough, he joined Chris at the table, own coffee in hand only a minute later, taking a sip of the strong brew, grin emerging as he greeted Chris.

"Morn'n Cowboy…." Rocking onto the two back legs of the chair using his knees to balance in his uncanny Vin manner; had anyone else tried it, they would have toppled head over heels backwards; his grin grew at Chris's answering scowl.

Eyeing the apparently secure Texan, Chris took another mouthful, shaking his head as he replied, "God I hate morning people … I'm assuming that Ezra kicked you out?"

Vin cocked his head, "Reckon so... '_Mr Tanner…take your incessantly cheerful persona and depart this vicinity immediately or I shall be obliged to eliminate your existence'_….or some such…he was still muttering when I left….don't 'ticularly want my existence eliminated….'sides…knew you'd be awake…. "

Chris was chuckling as he answered, "Yeah?…More like you knew I'd have the kettle on…and that I'd let you have your first cup of swill….maybe Ezra had the right idea…it's one thing to be awake before dawn...but do you have to be so damn _happy_ about it?"

Of the seven of them Vin was the only true morning person, most of them could be up and functioning at even the earliest hour when it became necessary, but none of them enjoyed it, unlike their quiet tracker, who was always up with or before the sun, wanting to be outside in the crisp morning air, come rain, hail or shine.

None of them could understand how anyone would want to be up at such an hour every morning, and Ezra just though he was insane…but the fact remained that his fondness for early mornings were as much what made him Vin, as Ezra's refusal to surface before midday was part of what made Ezra…well, Ezra… and none of the others would change that.

Vin dropped the chair down onto all four legs, self satisfied grin still firmly in place as he answered, "I ain't ever been, and ain't ever gonna be one of those folks who goes lazn' about once the sun done gone come up...if it's light out, I'm out...sides, my dreams ain't never held anything so beautiful as a whispy pink an' golden glow in the early east...or a scarlet ray sunset..."

Vin nodded out the window at the rising sun, the image a perfect embodiment of his description, and Chris had to agree, it was certainly a sight to behold, but unable to resist stirring the quiet man, he teased, "I don't have to be awake to see it cowboy...you've described it with such lavishness...you sure do have a way with words...what'd Ms Travis call it...that's right...a poets heart..."

Vin hadn't said anything, just grinned along with the banter, but Chris could see the red staining its way up his throat and dusting across his cheeks, and decided to take pity on his friend; he took a sip of his coffee and let the joke go.

Vin set his now empty mug on the table, and rocked back onto the chairs hind legs again, grinning as he nodded at the room, asking, "So...if'n ya hate early mornings so much, why ain't ya still snoring...don't have ta meet the others till lunch..."

Chris reached across, grabbed Vin's mug and stood, moving to the kitchen, replying as he refilled both mugs again, "Well, that was the plan...just...couldn't sleep...wondering what shit were going to get up to today...just hope this Weston fellow knows what he's doing..."

Vin nodded as he accepted the mug back again, "I hope so too...but I figure that if'n he don't...we'll, you'll set him to straights..."

Chris nodded himself, agreeing with the tracker whole-heartedly, there had been, on past occasions, the need to set various officials, doctors, shrinks, and other such people, to straights on matters regarding members of his team, and his team as a whole, and he had no doubt that he'd do so again here if necessary.

He just hoped it wouldn't be...the week would be much more pleasant if they weren't at odds with the shrink.

Settling back comfortably, Chris and Vin lapsed into their usual companionable silence, broken only by the occasional sip of hot coffee, and Vin's sniggering every time he readjusted his tenuous balance on the chair and how each time, Chris's scowl darkened.

.

The chair seemed to need readjusting a lot.

It was nearing 7am, and Vin was settled on all four legs again, as Chris's scowl had progressed to growling and he'd finally reached out and yanked the younger man down. A knock sounded at the door, and before Chris could get himself up to answer it, Vin called, "Come on in Nate, It's not locked..."

The door opened and Nathan wondered in, obviously freshly showered and dressed, he greeted the other two as he sat at the table, "Morning Chris, Vin...You guys slept okay?" the question was innocent enough, but all three of them knew that Nathan's intent was more than just that basic enquiry, and should they answer with anything other than an honest, "Yeah Nate, I slept fine..."the man would be all over them with good natured concern.

Two replies, of "Yeah Nate...coffee?" and, "Yep, how about you?" greeted him. Smiling he answered, "Coffee would be great Chris...and I slept well enough...although I might have been sharing the room with a chainsaw this morning...that's what got me up so early...left Josiah to sleep..." Chris, on his feet in the kitchen, sighed in empathy as he flicked the switch in the filled kettle, Josiah could snore with the best of them, the more exhausted he was, the louder he got, and yesterday had been a very long day.

Vin cringed, eyeing Nathan apologetically "I doubt the black eye and bruised nose I gave him helped very much...sorry Nate" Nathan grinned, "Oh, I don't know about that Vin...he seemed to like the attention it got him from the little chef last night...and his snoring really wasn't that bad..." the medic replied, trying to make light of the situation, knowing that if he didn't Vin would carry the guilt with him like a second jacket, even over something so trivial as a black eye between friends.

If anything, the younger man was even more possessive of his guilt that he was of that bloody jacket, and that really was saying something. Luckily, it seemed to work as Vin nodded and reached for his coffee mug, only to look delightedly startled to realise that he'd already finished it and it was empty. Turning blue lasers on Chris, who had just started to fill Nathan's cup, he pushed the mug across the table, pleading grin on his face.

Chris, despite facing away from the table, felt the look and knew what it meant, sighing he turned towards the others, saying, "Oh...all right, give me your mug..." and he accepted the happily passed mug, turning back to fill it again.

Nathan caught the by-play, shaking his head in exasperation, he thought about asking what number cup it was, but decided that it wouldn't make much difference anyway, Vin wouldn't listen if he really wanted the coffee, and Chris seemed to think it was okay, although grudgingly, and Nate trusted Chris to tell Vin that he thought 10 cups of coffee might be a little much.

It was all about picking your battles, and Nate picked enough losing battles with this lot, that he decided that he didn't need any other. Besides, he doubted anyone of them could deny Vin, self pronounced caffeine addict that he was, a singly cup of his liquid fuel. Not when those eyes came into effect.

Both men accepted their mugs a moment later, as Chris took his seat again, and the three sat and waited, chatting about this and that and anything or nothing. By the time Josiah joined them at 8:30, Nathan was working on his second cup of coffee, Chris had rinsed his and Vin's mugs and Vin had moved to straight milk, although he had promised to save some for JD.

The preacher looked much more rested than he had the previous night, although his eye had darkened to a spectacular display of black, blue and purple, causing a momentary guilty retreat on Vin's behalf, until Josiah had determined that no, Vin had _not _done it on purpose...and yes, he _was_ sorry.

Problem fixed.

Josiah had joined them for coffee, taking Vin's offered chair at the three seater table. Vin took himself and his cup of milk back towards the kitchen, jumping up to sit on the bench, socked feet swinging a few inches from the floor.

Josiah, gaze shrewd, looked from Vin, perched on the bench, happily jiggling his feet, across to Chris and said, "I'm assuming he didn't start the morning on milk…"Nathan sighed in exasperation, Chris sniggered, and Vin just shrugged non-committedly.

For the next hour or so the four waited, Josiah and Nathan got into a passionate, but reserved conversation/argument on the justifications of embryotic stem cell research, while Chris and Vin talked silently.

At 9:00am on the dot, it suddenly got a whole lot louder, with the entrance of JD and Buck.

"Now JD, I did try to tell you…." It was Buck who opened the door, but JD entered first.

The youngest wondered into the room, greeting the men as he passed the table, "Morning guys" and jumped up onto the kitchen table besides the tracker, adding, "Morning Vin…is that milk?...Buck, you didn't _try_ to tell me until _after _I already jumped….we're all here…. 'cept Ez?...huh! I knew it…..bet Vin's been here since half past dark!, and already drank most of the coffee and all the milk….besides, you'd already done it and I just wanted to…._What?_"

Chris, Nathan, Josiah and Buck were staring at him in varying degrees of exasperation, amazement and ridicule, and Vin was sniggering as he answered, "Slow down JD….take a breath….words ain't gonna disappear if'n ya say 'em slower…..here….have some milk…cos I ain't done drinking it all, but if'n ya want some, ya best get It now. "

JD accepted the offered cup, and jumped down to grab the milk bottle from the fridge, saying as he went, "Thanks Vin…shut up guys….I just have a lot to get said…..not my fault you old folk can't keep up!"

Buck growled and went to lurch to his feet from where he'd sunk to sit on the floor, obviously intent on starting another infamous round of 'JD pounding' when Chris intervened, shoving Buck back down into a rather undignified sprawl and turning to JD, "Okay, okay…you win, it's too early for this shit…so…what exactly did you do that Buck told you not to?"

JD's triumphant smile dripped off his face as he turned his half-hearted glare back on Buck, he'd known that the others would find out, and hadn't really done anything to hide it, but still…it was _bloody_ embarrassing.

Deciding not to put off the inevitable, JD explained, "Well, this morning Buck said he could jump over the kitchen serving counter…and I said that there was no way…and then he did it…so I had to do it too…"

Here Buck cut in, apparently deciding that he'd tell the rest of it much better than JD, "Only he didn't….caught his leg on it going over and had a rather…. interesting landing…but _I did _try to warn him…. "

It was JD's turn to cut back in, "Yeah! You tried to warn me _after_ I jumped!" he moved towards Buck again, for once not enjoying being the centre of attention as Chris smirked, Vin sniggered and Josiah grinned at his foolishness.

Nathan set them to straights, "You lot…" he said, looking to the three hyenas "Knock it off!", Chris, Vin and Josiah fell silent immediately, only sniggering occasionally. The medic turned to JD, "Are you okay…you din't hurt anything other than your ego?" JD shook his head indicating negatively, scarlet blush rising to his ears as Buck shook wildly at Nathans quip, that was, only until Nathan rounded on him, "AND YOU….Bloody idiot! What if you'd broken something…like you're goddamn neck...Bloody counters up to your chest! Idiot!" he threw a glance towards JD, which he saw Buck mirror, as he added, "And what about JD! He really could have killed his fool self, he's a good head and a half shorter than you!"

Buck had the good grace to pale a little, and he threw an apologetic glance and JD, "Sorry Kid….guess we really didn't think that one through…" noting Nathan's satisfied nod as the medic settled back into his chair.

JD, mollified a little by the apology and Nathan's defence, mellowed, leaning against the counter replying, "That's okay…we were both being a bit stupid… " Nathan smiled and crossed his arms in a _'my job here is done'_ kind of manner and JD couldn't help but tack on, "We probably shouldn't tell them what we did on the way over here….Nathan would probably have a coronary…."

Nathan's pleased look morphed into a scowl, and his eyes pinned JD with intended malice, which had the younger man quickly back-pedaling as the others laughed, hands up placating, he all but whimpered, "Kidding, kidding!".

Nathans glare intensified for a moment before an easy smile replaced it, and the others joined him as he chuckled, shaking his head.

Amid the revelry, Vin hopped of the counter, and headed towards the bedroom, sauntering past the others. Or at least he tried to. As he breezed by the leader, Chris grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him to a stop by his chair, stating firmly "Don't you even _think_ about it!"

He let Vin go, and the tracker sulked back into the kitchen and returned to his previous position, perched on the edge of the counter, looking back at Chris with wounded eyes complimented by his innocent expression.

"What...cain't a man even go to the bathroom...?" he muttered darkly, as if offended, yet his eyes didn't meet Chris's, as they would were he truly upset.

The other three were trying to follow the conversation between Chris and Vin, although they were having about as much success as they ever did. Chris's snorted reply cleared the situation a little, "Jesus Vin! You're another two inches shorter than JD...If you wanna kill yourself, fine, just don't do it on my watch!"

Josiah, as quick as ever, cut in with, "Vin was going to jump...?", but his question was all but drowned out by Chris's immediate answered of "NO..."he glared pointedly at his best friend as he finished, "He was not!".

Vin sulked lower in his seat, but nodded his acquiescence to the unspoken command.

JD sniggered as the attention moved from himself to the tracker, and Vin smiled back, his initial intention abated...although...later perhaps, when Chris wasn't about.

Thankfully unaware of the thoughts that were currently running through his two youngests minds, Chris turned back to where Nathan and Josiah had re-engaged in their spirited argument again, and gradually the conversation settled back into its dull monotonous roar.

Finally the neon letters on the bedside clock flickered onto 11:15am, and the men, gathering their wits, patience and any leaking sanity, left the room, intending on also gathering their conman on the way to the dining room.

Strangely, they met Ezra in the hallway halfway between the two rooms, the man was as immaculately presented as ever, yet something was strangely off, but after several scrutinizing gazes swept his form and found not a hair out of place, the matter was filed away for later perusal and they instead sent taunts and mocking questions regarding his 'early' morning, which Ezra replied to in-kind, as they made their way to lunch.

OOO**_I Will Keep writing_**OOO

Miles was already in the dining hall, this time visibly seated at one of the larger tables, as opposed to hidden up beyond the balcony. It was just after 11:20am , and Miles's eyes glanced up to the open doorway that revealed the long hall beyond, wondering, yet again, whether the men he was meeting would be early, or late.

Trivial though it was, this observation of punctuality was in fact, a test. Miles had come to the realisation that a study of personal timing could tell him much more than just a presence or lack of decent manners.

Miles often based his preliminary framework on his scheduled group's ability to arrive punctually to an assigned meeting. Being early told him that the group, whatever their personal opinion, were professional, courteous and confident in their ability to perform whatever tasks they were appointed.

Being late on the other hand often left Miles with a sour taste in his mouth, as he knew that this was a group that did not care to be polite, did not possess the ability to be organised and in control, or, and in law enforcement this was particularly worrying, had obvious misgivings about their ability to perform.

Sure, he knew that accidents happened and sometimes being late was unavoidable, and as a rule, Miles never based any reasoning on only one examination, but it created a baseline, or a control with which Miles measured several other actions and behaviours during the teams stay.

Looking at his watch yet again, Miles sighed, as it was the team had only 3 minutes to enter the dining hall, and despite factors such as non familiarity with the location, lack of sleep the day before and the unsettledness that the majority of groups through here felt, Miles was disappointed, he _had_ expected team 7 to be early rather than late, after all, the whole business of this evaluation was to garner an idea of what made the 7 men the best ATF agent in recent history...and Miles had a feeling that an inability to be punctual had nothing to do with it.

11:28 and counting...although he believed team 7 to be a singularity, perhaps impossible to recreate or imitate, he had hoped that his evaluations would at least reveal a number of actions that when implemented by other teams at least boosted overall success rates, as such, Miles had expected Team 7 to be particularly confident, prompt, in control and socially responsive to both each other and outsiders...and had hoped to discover the reasons behind their superior aptitude.

To find that the team may lack even the barest of social graces...

_**Does not correlate...will not compute...**_

Taking a deep breath and calming his too analytical mind, half snorting at his brainwaves attempts at humour, Miles steadied his thoughts, reminding himself that it was only the first day, and there could well be extenuating circumstances beyond control. He had seen himself, last night, that thing were not always as they appeared with this team.

In spite of his cautioning thoughts of not jumping to conclusions, Miles couldn't help another glance at his watch, and seeing the tiny digits ticking past 11:29:30, Miles pulled what he affectionately termed his 'scribble pad' from his pocket and extracted the pen he had tucked behind his left ear earlier that morning. He leafed through several scrawled upon pages until he came to where last night's notes had concluded and drew a line across beneath them, cleanly separating the page and the days.

He dated the top, and had just put pen to paper, already writing the first sentence of the day; _ Improm..._ when the door swung open and he heard the laughing cacophony of several male voices fill the room. A quick glance at his watch and Miles scribbled out the half written word and scrawled another..._Outstanding!_

_11:30:00..._It was in all likelihood a fluke, but Miles still found it impressive...being exactly on time, if it were a habit, was something that Miles rarely saw, but it told him just as much, if not more, than being either early or late. To be so exact, so...in control...to as be able to predict any hiccup that might arise and then accommodate for it perfectly...it was a strange phenomena...decidedly uncommon...not something Miles had expected, but had rather hoped for despite this.

Shelving his thoughts for later examination, Miles got to his feet, greeting the men as they meandered towards him, his eyes not missing a nudge between those two or a grin from that one, filing away all the little idiosyncrasies so that later he could accurately complete the puzzle.

Gesturing to the table before him he called, "Good morning, I hope you slept well…." He waited to receive nods and smiles of agreement before continuing, "I've taken the liberty of having the kitchen staff prepare a variety of brunch dishes, so please, have a seat…"

Miles mental observations whirled as the seven took their seats, with much the same random coordination as the night before. As soon as it became apparent that they were all settled, the door leading to the kitchen swung open, and the little chef from the night before entered, followed by 7 others each carrying a covered plater, which they carefully place in front of the eight men.

The metal covers were removed, revealing, a smorgasbord of hotcakes, bacon and eggs, toast, cereal and fresh fruit.

Josiah grinned his thanks as the diminutive chef patted his shoulder as she retreated back to the kitchens.

Miles nodded at the seven and, quite unnecessarily said, "Dig in…." which the seven did with only gusto that men can achieve.

Soon, sooner than one should think possible, plates where being scraped and last minute morsels devoured, Miles sat back in his seat, folding his arms across his stomach and started to explain his basic plan for the day and the several that would follow.

"Okay, As soon as everyone is done with their meal…..no rush….."he nodded to the still eating Buck, reassuring his guilty glance before continuing, "As soon as we are all done, I thought we'd get this day started…..I'd like to keep it as informal as possible…natural state and clean observations and all…so I though we could take this party outside for our first activity…"

Most of the men nodded their agreement, although Miles did note that Tanners enthusiasm seemed matched only by Standish's reluctance. As they waited for Buck to finish clearing his plate, which on closer inspection actually proved to be Ezra's, small conversations once again sprung up between the men, some Miles could follow from during breakfast and others that were obviously continuances from previously.

It appeared that Vin and JD were discussing the correctness of the term 'Brunch', whilst Nathan and Josiah were deeply involved in debate about…_embryonic stem cells? _Chris was sitting back, just soaking it all in. Miles turned to the man on his left, asking "Ezra….I hope that you are feeling better today….." the question was innocent enough and certainly spoken discreetly, but Miles still caught how several reactions where visible to varying degrees among the other team members. JD stilled, just for a moment, before resuming his conversation, Nathan glanced across and Josiah tilted his head. Miles more felt than saw Chris attention turn towards them, a slight straightening, a minute adjustment, but knew that his attention was directed fully at himself and Ezra. However immediately upon Ezra's nod and quiet reassurance all attention turned back to where it had been previously.

The only one whom Miles hadn't seen react was Vin Tanner…but perhaps that was a reaction in and of itself?

_Interesting._

Before he could think on it anymore, Buck placed his used napkin and cutlery on his plate, obviously signalling that he was ready and as one the men rose, indicating that Miles do the same, leaning down, he gathered his leather bag off the floor at his feet and then lead the way out the door, towards the open air of the valley they were situated in.

Several minutes of walking later, during Miles observed the unbridled energy of JD, the serene wandering of Vin and Ezra's hunched yet impeccably straight persona, he called them to a stop under a large shade tree, specifically planted for this very purpose.

Miles sat down, sinking into the lush green grass, waiting to see how the team behaved in response to his unconventional manner. He had observed any number of reactions over the past few years, from haughty refusal to complete and utter comfort. Different though each reaction was, individually and as a whole, each team showed him a little more of themselves with just this one action, as they did with everything they did, didn't do, said or didn't say over the week they were here.

He was rewarded in his observation when Chris shrugged minutely and sank to the ground, legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle. It was as if his doing so gave the others permission, as immediately they began to follow him, JD plopping down cross-legged as was the benefit of youth, Buck with one leg drawn up and the other bent behind it, leaning his weight on his left arm. Josiah had been the only one that Miles had worried about, in regards to physical ability, but the older man eased himself down with no apparent discomfort. Vin Tanner slumped down against the tree, placed the heel of one boot on the toe of the other, pulled his hat down over his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest, utterly relaxed and obviously right in his element.

Ezra gingerly sank down between Vin and Josiah, obviously not happy with the seating arrangements, but diplomatic enough not to make a fuss when everyone else had accepted it so easily. Other than verbally, of course, "Ay' feel like a kindergartener…shall we sing…perhaps itsy bitsy spider…."

It was Buck who shushed him as the others, Miles included, sniggered, "Shut it Ez…we haven't even started yet…plenty of time for your rapier wit later…'sides…its 'insy winsy' spider…not itsy bitsy….that one's about a bikini…."

Amidst the continuing laughter Ezra complied, settling down with a grin of his own, but was unable to resist muttering, quite audibly, "And you'd know all about _that_…wouldn't you Buck?"

Entertaining as it was, and he'd quite enjoy listening to more of this later, Miles interrupted before Buck had a chance at a comeback, "Okay guys… We did a basic meet and greet last night….rather unconventionally mind you…regardless….todays activities are designed to expand on that…basically allowing me to gauge how well you actually know each other, and try and factor what an impact this level of familiarity has on your performance rate….so …you'll probably be fairly familiar with the next few…well, I call them games…but they're not really….so all I ask is that you be honest…if you can't be honest, I'd prefer you didn't answer or participate as opposed to lying…..okay….." nods of agreement answered him as he continued.

"Alright…this activity is basically called two truths, one lie….and its exactly that…each person tells two truths and a lie about themselves…and then the others must guess which is the lie…..now, I know you guys know each other very well…so I want you to make it as hard as possible…winner is the ones that no one can identify….."

Miles truly loved this game…it sounded so simple and innocent…but no matter how well a group knew each other, he knew that once he put the word 'winner' in there, competitive spirits would rise, and they'd most likely find out things about each other that they _ hadn't _previously known.

It also gave him an idea of the kind of things that they had previously shared, and the things that the team didn't routinely talk about, all very useful in the pursuit of the data he wanted to collect.

Knowing that it wasn't a hard concept to understand, Miles jumped right into it, "Okay…Nathan, if you'd like to start… two truths and a lie please…."

Nathan sighed, tilting his head to the side as he thought, before he looked up, grinning, "Right…I'll be 40 in four years, I don't like cheese and my girlfriend, Raine….is a terrible cook… "

Miles personally would have guessed that the cheese comment was the lie, based on the lack of personal detail it entailed, but the team knew better correctly guessing, or rather, knowing, that Nathan wasn't 40 for another six years.

JD tried his best, thinking hard, before trying to stump them with "I 'm 408th in line for the Danish throne, I'm single and I bought an $1800 suit jacket."

Buck broke in with a smile, Well I know for a fact that you and Casey have been going steady for the past week or so….and I saw you buy Ezra's last suit for him, so I'd believe that you actually spent that much on a jacket…although it was his money…so technically…..but you've only said that you're 412th inline for the Danish throne about one hundred times…so unless four people have been knocked off in the past week…that's the lie….""

Already Miles was starting to wonder if there was anything these men didn't share with each other, as they only seemed able to lie through misdirection and incorrect facts and trivial unimportant details within an actual truth. He wasn't really sure what to make of it…this game usually brought out huge surprises and shocks as team mates tried to trick and get one up on each other.

He nodded at Josiah to continue, "Almost JD…but not quite good enough…care to take a stab Josiah?"

The big man nodded, obviously already having though of his three ideas, "I was born an identical twin…my parents' marriage was arranged and I'm the last of my family alive…"

Miles nodded to himself; this was more like it, hard hitting, life changing, big revelations, his thoughts were cut off by Ezra's interruption, "If your mother had attempted to birth two of yourself Mr Sanchez…she would simply have split in two…so that is obviously the lie…."

Miles waited for the comeback to the perceived slight, but was strangely gladdened when Josiah just laughed, nodding his agreement…. And whilst he was curious about Josiah's apparent status as the last remaining member of his family, as well as his parents' marriage, the fact that no one else on the team mentioned either of the other two subjects suggested that he steer clear as well.

Whilst the game wasn't' giving miles an insight into the men individually, it was starting to form a rough ideal of their relationship and the depth it went two.

Ezra was next, his eyes faintly gleaming as he spoke, "I don't own any clothing more than a year old…I cut my own hair….and I was emancipated at the age of 17…."

Chris answered the issued challenge….I know for a fact that you still wear the sweat pants we gave you for Christmas two years ago….."

Ezra's triumphant grin faltered and his ears burned, but he didn't seem overly concerned at the loss of face, inclining his head to Chris.

Miles figured that there was a story behind that, but didn't want to interrupt the game to ask, wondering at the fact that the team was almost inverting the game…telling lies that should be truth and truths that should be assumed lies….and still the others were guessing correctly.

Chris was next, and he took the limelight graciously if reluctantly, "My bedroom door is purple….I stable 6 horses on my ranch and I think Vin's gone to sleep….."

Chris fell silent, but it took the others a moment to realise that he was finished, that the Vin comment was actually one of his subjects. Miles shook his head at the ingenious of the topic and the fact that at least one of the truths was obvious this time.

Vin hadn't moved a muscle from when he'd sat down. Hat still in place and all.

Buck sniggered…"Well I remember when Sarah insisted that the door be purple…and I know for a fact that you've got 7 horses in that stable of yours…and junior certainly appears to be out with the best of them….."

JD agreed instantly, between laughing and grinning at his friends lumbering body. Ezra shook his head, Nathan frowned and Josiah looked skyward, sighing.

Vin's drawling voice replied from beneath the hat, "Chris knows I'se awake…and as far as he's concerned, even if he is dead wrong… peso ain't even fit to be called a horse…"

The others fell silent immediately, contemplating this before the laughing and sniggering started again, this time in agreement with Vin, and merriment at having been thoroughly had by Chris. 

Vin sat up, crooked grin fighting to escape, shaking his head at the others, adding, "guess it's my turn then…"Miles nodded, pleased by the turn of events, and Vin continued, "I'se don't have any family…I've had 18 broken bones….and…I watch what I eat very carefully"

The others looked a little non-plussed for a moment, each thinking, remembering, wondering…and then Nathan put his bit in, "Well. I know for a fact that he's had 18 broken bones….so that's a truth…" he glowered at Vin who had the good grace to look down, luckily Ezra broke in…. "You might be the last Tanner…but I think the other truth is actually that you monitor your nutrients intake carefully" Nathan's growled "_WHAT?_" was drowned out by Chris's snort and Bucks sniggering.

JD had cottoned on to Ezra's reason, and he jumped in to explain, "He has a family…us….and he does watch what he eats carefully…wouldn't want any stray vegetables to sneak into his mouth….."

Ezra nodded and Vin gave in and smiled, leaning back against the tree, the others fell about laughing. Miles was busy mentally scribbling in his head.

_Truths/lie- No Winner- Only to be had through subterfuge. Family._

Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, at least for now, Miles grinned as he spoke, "Well done guys, nice fast game…good try all of you, and although nobody really won…I'm going to give it to Chris, as he was the closest…if you're up to it…we'll jump straight into the next activity…."gladdened by the enthusiastic nods he received, happy that the team seemed to have decided that if they had to be here they'd might as well enjoy it Miles pulled his leather case open and handed out white cards, one apiece.

"Alright…this one had a similar reasoning behind it, but is more so I can gain an idea of how similar your thoughts and beliefs of each other are…so it's pretty simple…Inside your card is the name of one of your team members…what you have to do is write one word or phrase that you think the others will easily assimilate that man, do it silently, so no one has an advantage….." he trailed off as several grins broke out and the sound of ripping paper and scrawling pencils was heard.

Several minutes later and pencils were downed as each man finished his list. Finally Miles said, "Right…JD, if you'd go first…."

JD nodded eagerly and held his card up.

**WHY YA YELLA-BELLIED, POCK-MARKED, MANGY-ASSED, BEADY EYED, MAGGOT EAT'N, FILTHY BASTARD!**

An immediate chorus of "Vin!" was heard.

"Well, ya no-good back stabbing…." was cut off when the others laughed pointedly.

Vin's card read- **MAGGOTISM**

Buck growled… "_Magnetism…Animal Magnetism_" amidst laughing shouts of "Buck!"

Buck help up the card that read – **SPIRITS…BOTH KINDS**

Josiah just grinned as the others said his name, holding his own card up – **HEART OF TARNISHED GOLD**

Ezra's name fell from everyone's lips, as the man himself busied himself reaching for his own card, carefully hiding the small smile – **COWBOY**

Chris's growl didn't stop the others from saying his name in response. His own card –**PAPA BEAR**

Nathan shook his head as everyone said his name, but he wasn't arguing with the classification, holding up his own card- **BABY BUCKLIN**

Buck howled as JD rubbed at his forehead and glared at Vin.

Miles wondered at the quick fire way they had guessed, not even any deliberation…..and he was sure he'd missed something…or several something's in there. Regardless, he filed away everything he had learnt, seen, heard or thought for later evaluation and pondering, unsure what to make of anything he'd seen so far, other than to make the observation that team 7 was unlike any other team he had evaluated so far.

He let them talk amongst themselves for a moment whilst he thought on the day so far, and then noticed that suddenly the whole group fell quiet, looking up he followed their gaze and called a greeting to Thomas, one of his groundsmen, "Thomas! Meet ATF team 7…Guys…this is Thomas, my chief groundsman…."he waited until the men had politely nodded to each other before continuing, "I'm assuming that Anita sent you out with our afternoon tea….."

His assumption was proved correct, and soon the men were digging into soft drink, water and juice as well as an assortment of cakes and biscuits, watching Thomas retreat back to the buildings and chatting about the two activities among other things.

While the men ate, Miles contemplated the next activity, the final one for the day…often this was an activity that met with resistance and non-committal as it involved a degree of physical touch, but looking at the team he did not believe that would be a problem for them.

Vin was still leaning against his tree, but Ezra had moved to half lean against the tracker, and unless Miles was mistaken the southerner appeared to be a little pale in the face again. He knew he wasn't the only one to notice, because as Nathan reached into the basket for another oreo, he put his hand on Ezra's shoulder, to all appearances using him as a balancing aid. However the back of his hand surreptitiously brushed against Ezra's throat, gauging temperature.

Nathan met Chris eyes with a minute headshake, which could have meant anything, but Chris's answering head tilt was positive. Ezra shook his head and muttered something to Vin, which made the tracker laugh and glance at Nathan and Chris.

Miles made note of the byplay.

Once it became clear that everyone had had enough, Miles packed up the basket and got to his feet, glad when the others followed him up; the number of groups he had to actually tell to get up was ridiculous.

"This activity is the last for the day…it's a bit different, more hands on….and gives me a better idea of how your physical personal familiarity compares to your verbal." He saw several confused glances as well as some glimmers of understanding as he continued, "Being unable to see, I 'd like each one of you to identify your team mates by anything other than sight or voice, be it touch, scent or presence…..if you would form a loose circle…Josiah, will you go first?"

At Josiah's nod, Miles pulled a length of black cloth form his bag, and handed it across the circle to the ex-preacher…."Put the blindfold on please…it evens the playing field…it is often much more difficult to keep our eyes closed when just a peak can solve the puzzle…"

Josiah accepted the blindfold quickly, perhaps too quickly, and Miles moved his gaze across the circle to where he could hear fierce whispering. If Ezra had been a little pale, then Vin had gone chalky white, he was saying something fiercely, albeit quietly, to Chris as he shakily stepped back.

Ezra had stepped up on his other side, one hand grabbing Vin's lean shoulder, stopping the trackers retreat as he leaned across and said something to Chris. Chris nodded, replied something and then turned to Vin, putting one had on ac side of his angry if somewhat distressed face, speaking low, beyond Miles hearing. Whatever he said calmed Vin down immediately, and his pale skin went a red as he realised he had an audience. Strangely, none of the other men turned their gaze away as would normally be prudent in a situation such as this. JD smiled reassuringly, Josiah nodded warmly, Buck asked softly, "Okay Junior?" to which he got a small nod in reply, as Nathan's keen gaze swept Vin from head to toes.

Miles was distracted from the fascinating display of behaviour by Chris who said, "Vin will participate, but he won't wear the blindfold…he'll keep his eyes shut" it was said with such determined conviction, such surety that Miles simply nodded his agreement and then turned to Josiah, who had tied the blindfold on.

He put the display into his mental filing case for later perusal and said to the biggest man "Okay Josiah…If you will take two steps to the centre of the circle, and please rotate three times" As Josiah did this, miles added, "Outer circle please rotate that way, until I stop, and then swap with the person two places to your left." pointing to the left he walked several paces, shifting the whole formation of the circle.

Once the circle was reformed Miles said, "Okay Josiah please step forward in any direction and try to identify which team member is on front of you, remember everyone no talking."

Josiah stepped forward, towards Chris, and stopped feeling the presence in front of him. Putting a hand up at his head height he slowly waved it across in front of him, feeling nothing but air, he snorted… One hand came down on Chris's shoulder, and the other ran over his hair. Finally Josiah's hands slid down Chris's arms to stop at his waist.

"Chris…?" he questioned.

Miles answered with a "Yes…okay Josiah…one step to your left"

Buck was identified after the hand wave and the hair touching, as was Nathan. JD and Ezra stumped him for a moment until he really concentrated on the material of the clothes and the silk gave Ezra away. Vin's hair was a dead pointer.

JD had only had trouble with Nathan and Josiah, as they were both tall, wide set and had close cropped hair. Once his reluctance to touch their faces passed, he easily decided the difference.

Nathan had only to gauge their height and hair and he knew who was who.

Vin was of course, the easiest to pick with his hair, but none of them really had any trouble with the activity…and Miles hadn't expected them to, it was more a matter of being reluctant to participate fully that made the game difficult.

Finally only Vin remained, and he closed his eyes and stepped into the circle, turning three times as the outer circle followed Miles lead and turned several times the other way, swapping places with every third person.

Vin stepped up to Buck, and immediately said, "Buck." It wasn't a question.

The same happened with JD and Ezra…Vin would take one step towards them, and then answer correctly. Finally Miles had to interrupt; he had known that this would happen. "Vin…you need to keep your eyes closed…." He had said, quite nicely, not accusingly at all.

Vin had nodded and replied, "I am…" and then moved onto the next person, saying "Nathan" before he'd even stopped moving.

Miles, frustrated that his data was being skewed said, "Tanner, please keep your eyes closed, put the blindfold on or stop…."

Vin frowned but replied, "They're shut…" and moved onto Josiah, whom he identified with as much ease as the others. Miles stepped out of the circle, saying, "It's okay…You obviously can't keep your eyes shut,…it can be difficult…so where just going to stop this here…."

Vin frown and opened his eyes, sighing, but before he could say anything JD and Buck Jumped in with, "But he has got his eyes closed!" and "If junior says they're closed then they're closed!"

Miles grimaced, as he replied, "Guys, he's probably not doing it on purpose, but that's just impossible…it will screw with by evaluation….."

Vin stood up from where he'd crouched by Miles bag, blind fold in hand, and said, "I'll wear it…my eyes were closed…but I'll put it on….."

Chris immediately objected as did Ezra, who reached to take the item that Vin was clenching in fisted hands.

The Texan stepped back, forcing a smile…it's okay guys…wouldn't want the shrinks data to be screwed"…he handed the blindfold to a dumbfounded Miles and turned around saying…"you put it on…then you'll know I can't see".

Miles tied the blind fold on securely, trying to adamantly ignore the slight tremble he could feel in the slim shoulders below his arms and the guilty sick feeling welling in his stomach. Chris and Ezra settled back into the circle, although it was clear that they were in no way impressed with the proceedings and both Vin and the outer circle rotated again.

Vin stepped up to Chris and immediately identified him, and the same with JD and Buck…as before, if not faster. Miles shook his head in amazement; he'd never seen anything like it.

Finally Vin stepped up to Nathan and said, "Smells like…trace amounts of rosemary….that's Raine's perfume…antiseptic …and willow bark tea…..ditch water….Must be Nathan. "

He turned to a stunned Miles, blindfold still on saying, "JD smells like sandalwood….sandalwood soap, chocolate…from the biscuits he was eating earlier…. Buck like his deodorant and some sort of minty sent…like toothpaste but….._gum_…..Chris like coffee and pine and molasses…for the horses…Josiah…like water and _lemon…_that moisturiser he gives to the ladies at the church…Ezra…Like…cinnamon and honey…sorry Ez…but ya smell kinda sweet…..from that bun you fiddled and picked at but didn't really eat…..and You Dr Weston….you smell like grass and paint….and _lavender…._fresh…not like a perfume….. "

Vin yanked off the blindfold with shaking hands and turned, walking off, towards the rooms they were staying in. Most of the others turned to follow, Ezra quick to catch up to Vin.

Chris stayed with the flabbergasted Miles, but only long enough to say, "If you _ever_ try to force, guilt or influence anyone of my men to do something that I've said they won't be doing….skewed data will be the least of your problems…." He turned to leave, to follow his team and then as if on a sudden impulse he turned back…"Any of this passes your lips and I won't be responsible for what my team does…..Vin was held prisoner by a child pornography ring for over three weeks…we only got him back a little over two months ago….while he was there he was blindfolded the whole time….kept with the children…he was able to identify each one by name…by scent alone…and was able to identify what was happening to them by scent and able to tell which ones were murdered by their scent….he also attacked and killed four of the nine men by scent alone and identified the other five for the courts…."

He contracted pneumonia trying to keep the children warm and protected during their capture and in the snow covered mountain after he broke them out.

"And Miles…..that blindfold….was super glued and duct-taped on…..You though he screwed with your data…imagine how you screwed with his head."

And with that Chris turned and walked off, following his men.

Miles sank to his knees, fighting against the bile in his throat…already scrabbling for his scribble pad….but having no idea where to start…or what impact the revelation had on his evaluation.

OOO**_I Will Keep writing_**OOO

_**END CHAP 2. **_

Sorry it's taking so long guys; I hope it's worth it. I promise it WILL NOT be abandoned.

PLEASE REVIEW….have I hit a winning mix of humour, drama, angst and h/c?


	4. Importance of Communication

_**Psychobabble **_

_Disclaimer: If only..._

A/N- **"If you want to make an easy job seem mighty hard, just keep putting off doing it" **

Case in point- this fic.

***For Teresa***

*She knows why*

**Chapter 3: Importance of Communication**

Ezra pulled the door shut behind him with a soft "thud", and paced into the room silently, seating himself in the first vacant spot, which happened to be the foot of the spare bed. He wondered at his sudden need to be less than vertical, but shelved the thought as he became aware of the atmospheric tension in the room. Vin sat propped against the headboard of the same bed, Buck, Josiah, Nathan and JD spread out over the rest of the furniture; Buck on the bottom of Chris's bed, JD leaning against the kitchen counter and Nathan and Josiah at the small table.

The room was heavy with badly concealed concern; all eyes on Vin, who had yet to return his gaze from the single window, framing the quickly approaching dusk. Tense and still pale, he did not present a reassuring façade to his friends. Not that said friends were expecting him to be happy and calm after the incident they'd just experienced. Buck tried to indicate that 'someone' should say 'something', with his eyes, although his pointed gaze indicated that by 'someone' he meant anyone but himself. JD kept looking to the door, hoping that Chris would hurry up, wondering what could be keeping him.

Just as Nathan seemed set to approach him, Vin drew in one shaky long breath, eyes closed as he held it, and then he exhaled smoothly, returning to reality as he swept his attention to the rest of the team, saying with the barest hint of a smile, "Relax guys….I'se fine….." Nathan's snort interrupted him, but Vin continued, ignoring the medic, "Me'be a mite shaken…but don' be getting no thoughts of payback….he didn' know….."

Before anyone else could get a word in, JD was quick to refute his friends defence, "Shouldn't matter that he didn't know…Chris told him that you wouldn't be wearing the stupid blindfold...and that's all I have to say on the matter." Vin, never one to stir trouble, despite the agreement he could see on most, if not all the faces present, argued, "Now JD…that ain't fair…Weston didn't make me put it on…..I di' that on my own…."

JD, uncharacteristically upset, immediately butted back in, all but spitting the words "That's bullshit! No way in hell would have you put it on if Weston hadn't all but called you a liar to your face!... You shouldn't have put it on! Should have told him to stick it up his ass and walked…" JD felt several of the previously supportive gazes become reproachful, and fell silent as he realized that he was all but screaming at his best friend, who had the ease and grace to just accept it, as if it was he and not Weston who had done the wrong thing.

Red creeping over his cheeks, JD continued in a quieter, reproachful voice, "Sorry Vin….you don't deserve me yelling at you…I'm just so…pissed…that a man the ATF are comfortable trusting with such highly confidential information could have about as much sensitivity as a teaspoon, and apparently less sense than a…a…a dead hillbilly muskrat!"

Silence reigned for a moment, most of them just staring at their youngest member, and then an explosive snort from Josiah set them all off. Nathan was sniggering as he shook his head, Buck exclaiming, "A muskrat? Really JD…._a hillbilly muskrat?...a dead one?", _while Ezra ventured, "Mr Dunne…are you even aware of what a muskrat is?" Vin just shook his head at the ridiculousness of the statement, but the smile on his face was well received by JD, who took the ribbing well.

Of course, this was precisely the time that Chris chose to walk in. Instead of the heavy, sombre group he had thought to encounter, he was faced with Buck, who was well into a laughing parody of Monty Pythons signature dead parrot sketch—"_'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off the twig! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!"_

_THIS IS AN EX-hillbilly Muskrat!"_

JD of course, absolutely thrilled to have been the one to reduce the all too serious Nathan to giggling fits as he 'parroted' in histrionics, "_Pining… for the fjords!"_

And Vin, earlier unsettling quite forgotten as he smirked at Ezra from his spot on the bed… apparently the southerner had never had the pleasure of Monty Python before, and if his hiccupping laughter was any indicator...Vin couldn't wait to introduce him to 'The black night!'!

Chris just shook his head, completely at ease with the familiar pandemonium, and once he had reassured himself that Vin seemed okay, better than okay, he interrupted Bucks monologue to create the correct dialogue, "_Sorry squire, I've had a look 'round the back of the shop, and uh, we're right out of muskrats."_

Buck and Chris where 'forced' to repeat the skit at least four times more and Vin took to adding his own input, as the dead parrot (or Muskrat!) no less, and it seemed that every time the uproar started to die down, a snigger, one-liner or humorous rejoinder would bring the chaos back to full force.

Eventually though, the joke had run its course, and the seven men had settled into comfortable, companionable silence, indulging the satisfying feeling of post- hilarity, the ease of atmosphere only familiar to those who knew the contentment of complete trust and warm fondness of close family.

Knowing that they were scheduled in the dining hall at 7pm, Josiah sighed, and got to his feet, stretching out the kinks in his back as he excused himself, wanting to shower and change before dinner, with one last glance at both Vin and Ezra, Nathan followed his roommate out the door. Buck and JD, again, or perhaps still, pushing and shoving each other also made their way out. As Vin levered himself up, he turned expectantly to Chris, instinctively knowing that his friend had something on his mind. Sure enough, "Vin...see you at dinner?" he asked.

It wasn't what Chris really wanted to ask, but he knew that Vin would only respond to his 'Are you sure you're okay' with his customary "I'm fine", and in reality Chris already knew that Vin wasn't fine. Hell, he himself wasn't fine, and he'd been on the sidelines for the majority of the case, but Vin was nothing if not stubborn, and so Chris masked his true query.

Vin of course knew what Chris had meant, and he answered in the same indistinct, highly veiled manner, as was customary, "Not really hungry...think I'se just gonna go back to my room..." on some unconscious level both he and Chris knew what the other wasn't saying. Chris nodded, albeit a little grudgingly as he too got to his feet, turning to where the southerner appeared to be half asleep on the bottom of the bed, "Ezra..."

Before he could even ask his question, Ezra broke in, quietly informing Chris that he would be accompanying Mr Tanner back to their room and that they would both be present in the morning. Chris could see that Ezra was once again feeling a little off, and so nodded his agreement, offering a hand to pull the conman to his feet. He pulled the door closed behind them after they exited, pocketing his key card as Ezra searched his pockets for his own card, triumphantly producing it as they reached their door. Vin and Ezra turned in for the night, and Chris continued onto dinner, muttering to himself '_Muskrat?...I was sure it was a damn Parrott..._'

_*****Stop Procrastinating*****_

Not having realised that Vin, nor Ezra were present, Miles didn't join the team for dinner, thinking that it might be best to let the men regroup in private. Besides, he had some thinking to do about the day's activities, a lot of assessing of behaviours, recalling of specific reactions and possible conclusions to draw, as well as a fitting apology to form.

As soon as Chris Larabee had left him shell-shocked under the tree, Miles had gathered his belongings, and after scrawling his immediate thoughts, had made his way directly to his office, knowing that he had some research to conduct. An hour and two security clearance levels later, Miles had read the incident report of the case that Chris had explained briefly to him, and ignoring the roiling nausea and raging fury that any human could be so cruel, Miles had formed a preliminary apology he felt he owed Vin Tanner.

What that man had done for those children...and the parents...

What Miles had done to that man...oh, it may not have been intentional, in fact, he had no way of knowing that Tanner would react like that...but Miles still felt terrible...felt that he should have known. The other men obviously felt that Larabee had given him a clear warning, and Miles had chosen not to listen.

Looking down at the clear notes he had copied from his scribble pad into his journal, Miles realised that a warning _had_ been given.

_Journal- Monday- ATF Team 7_

_Larabee seems to speaks on behalf his whole team, he does not give orders. He just speaks. "Vin won't be wearing the blindfold" = "I don't really care what YOUR rules are...but you __**will**__ listen to MY rules"_

Miles knew he'd catch on much faster in the future; his men obviously trusted Larabee to know what they could and couldn't handle...so Miles would have to do the same. For some reason he didn't think he'd get a second chance.

He scrawled a few more words under a separate heading in his journal for future reference.

_Tanner, V,_

_Extreme sense of honesty- to the point that it defines his person- did not care that proof was detrimental - could not stand to be called untruthful._

Flipping the book shut, Miles placed it atop several others and stood, hibernating his computer and flicking off his desk lamp as he left the room, and headed for his own rooms, ready to turn in; hopeful that he could mend several fences tomorrow.

_*****You're still procrastinating*****_

9am Tuesday morning came bright and early, although, no brighter or earlier than any other morning. Chris had assumed that Vin would turn up in his kitchen at the crack of dawn again, but the coffee cup sat unused on the bench, and the hot water long since cold. Strangely miffed, but not actually concerned, Chris rinsed his own mug, and grabbed his jacket off his bed as he left the room, wondering how it could possibly be so overcast and bloody cold today when the past few days had been sauna hot.

Vin would be happily ensconced in his leather jacket, not to mention probably every layer of clothing he'd brought with him, and if it got much colder Chris knew that the Texan wasn't above looting his or JD's bags for extra insulation. Vin wasn't just a cold fish, the team were sure that he had actual ice water running through his veins.

Dragging the coat on, black of course, Chris set off for the dining hall, wondering if the others would be there on time for their 9:30 breakfast schedule.

Miles was already in the dining room when Chris go there just after 9am, but as of yet he was the only one of the team to arrive. Making eye contact with the shrink as he sat, Chris returned the nod, knowing that he was effectively wiping the slate clean after yesterday afternoon, but he also hoped that Miles knew that while he might forgive, he certainly hadn't forgotten; and Chris Larabee didn't do second chances.

Over the next 20 minutes Chris did not make small talk with the man, he didn't drum his fingers on the table, he didn't even glance towards the door, and he never sighed, all in all, he was perfectly poised and calm.

Miles noted in his mental pad:

_Larabee, C _

_Patience is a virtue_

_Cannot get a physical read_

Miles also noted that Chris instantly became animated when Nathan and Josiah wandered through the doors, sitting up straighter and asking Nathan's question before the medic could, "Morning guys….sleep well?"

Nathan and Josiah had nodded in response, pulling up seats on the same side, if a circle had sides, as Chris and Miles, leaving the remaining chairs vacant for their, as of yet, absent team members. JD and Buck arrived several minutes later, as usual their imminent arrival had been heralded by the expected bickering and banter long before they were seen entering the doors. By this stage it was just brushing 9:30am and the kitchen staff started to bring out their delicious meals, Josiah happily basking under the warm attentions of the petite head chef.

It soon became obvious that neither Vin, nor Ezra were going to grace the table with their presence.

Breakfast was a rather sober affair, despite Buck and JD's impromptu hash brown war, Miles wondering if perhaps he had seriously damaged his chances at gathering the required data for his evaluation and most of the team was worried about what Vin and Ezra's absence meant. Ez's lack of punctuality wasn't overly shocking, but given an appointment time, nine times from 10 the man was on time. Vin on the other hand was Mr Punctuality, so why on earth were they missing? Chris assured Miles that Vin didn't hold grudges, but privately he wondered the same thing himself, after all; the case had been an absolute bloody nightmare for the young tracker.

Finally the table had been cleared and the men had been given 11am as a meeting time at the same conference room they had used the first night, Miles headed off to finish his days plans and the rest of the men trailed after Chris to Vin and Ezra's room.

Chris hadn't even been afforded the opportunity to knock when the door swung open to reveal Vin, showered and dressed, seemingly healthy and in one piece. Pushing the door further open Chris asked as he entered, looking for the southerner, "You boys forget you had a place to be this morning…or did you just decide it was too much trouble?"

Vin had wondered back towards the bedroom end of the room, allowing the rest of the team to follow him in, when he shot a no-nonsense reply back over his shoulder, "Leave off Chris, Ez ain't feeling too hot…." The tracker nodded at Chris's silent apology and indicated the bathroom to an already moving Nathan, adding to the medic, "He'll be out in a minute…he's get'n dressed….doesn't seem to be chuck'n or dizzy or anything….just tired, sore throat and a mite shaky….I think he has a fever, but he didn' let me close enough to check properly, 'fore he got into the bathroom…."

Chris had moved to hover beside Vin and the rest of the 7 had assumed similar seats to yesterday, despite being a different room, while Nathan knocked on the bathroom door, calling, "Ezra…It's Nathan…you alright?"

Ezra's muffled voice floated back to him through the door, "I assure you Mr Jackson…I am perfectly satisfactory…."

Nathan shook his head at Ezra's expected variation of "I'm fine" and instead looked at the other person who used the same tactic. Vin shook his head, indicating that he didn't think that the southerner was 'fine' at all. Nathan turned back to the bathroom and called, "Open the door Ezra…."

Despite the congenial manner it was phrased, Nathans soft voice unassuming and pleasant, each of the seven knew when Nathan was serious and when he was just humouring them. Being that the man humoured their ill behaviour, grouchy demeanours and stubborn lack of self-preservation more often than not, more so in some cases than others, it became plainly clear when the medic required them to cooperate.

In unfamiliar, untested surrounds, so soon after Vin's serious close call was not a time to be contrary, and this was proven by the lock flicking on the bathroom door and Ezra's lack of complaint as Nathan let himself in, half closing the door behind himself.

Soft murmuring could be heard from the main part of the room, snatches of the conversation, enough to make out the majority of the situation. Quiet questions were asked, interspersed with variations of 'fine' and 'okay' before Nathan stepped back out, leaving Ezra to finish avoiding them while he ensured that his finely coifed appearance was up to its usual standards.

Nathan immediately turned to Chris answering the unasked demand, "He's running a low fever, scratchy throat, mild headache…just generally miserable…I'm pretty sure that he's just caught himself a cold…."

Chris nodded in relieved concern, "Well…should he be coming out with us today?"

Nathan knew that if he recommended rest and relaxation Chris would find a way to enforce it on the younger man, whatever his arguments, however he truly didn't see that as necessary, not yet anyway, so said to Chris, "It's just a cold…he should take it easy…no gunfights, long distance races or argumentative behaviour….seeing that it Ezra were talking about, I'll have to settle for the first two…..but he's fine to participate as long as he doesn't overdo it…."

Chris nodded his understanding, knowing that between the six of them keeping Ezra from 'overdoing it' should at least be theoretically possible. Turning to Vin he asked, "Have you two eaten yet?" knowing that neither of them had been at dinner the night before, and Ezra had barely eaten anything at all yesterday.

Vin nodded his reply, adding, "Yeah, Ez found the room service menu, so we both had breakfast here…although, Ez didn' eat a lot…said his throat was hurting…." Chris made a note of Vin's explanation, reminding himself to make sure Ezra ate lunch.

The men sat around the room for another 10 or so minutes, waiting patiently for Ezra to finish his morning routine…well, semi-patiently; before, as a group they left the room, making their way back to the main building.

Over the 5 minute period it took to walk the short distance, 6 sets of eyes sought Ezra's hunched form, gazes sweeping from head to toe, each thinking that perhaps he really _should _have stayed in bed. To put it mildly, the man looked like crap. Despite his extended stint in the bathroom, beneath the well styled hair, immaculate shirt and expensive jeans; the shaking hands, pale skin, fever pinkened cheeks and glassy eyes were visible.

Ezra easily detected the concerned gazes, and despite the urge to snap at them, he knew his team was just worried, as he would be if it were any one of them. In all honesty, he really wished that he could have stayed tucked up in his warm bed, room darkened with a few painkillers, a throat lozenge and the peace and quiet of loneliness. However, he knew the difference between life threatening and minor inconvenience, and this most definitely smacked of the latter; he was off in the stomach, not dying, and as such didn't want to be separated in unknown unfamiliar territory.

However, despite Ezra's inner monologue, which unknown to him, the other 6 were all having some variation of, by the time they arrived at the conference room, he kind of felt like he _was_ dying, and gratefully slumped into a chair among the circle configuration, still set up from the night they had arrived. The other 6 followed his example, with Vin to his right, followed by Chris, Buck, JD, Josiah and then Nate on Ezra's left.

This time there was no eighth chair in the circle, and as Weston entered the room he moved across to the windows, pulling himself onto the desk, feet crossed at the ankle as they hung a good inch from the floor. His hands gripped the desk on either side of his knees and he leant forward a little, strangely reminiscent of the way Vin had perched on the kitchen counter the morning before.

His keen gaze swept the men, accounting for each ones presence and state, eyes lingering on both Vin and Ezra, although for different reasons, gauging the mood before he spoke, "Morning guys…Vin, Ezra…I hope you slept well?…." The two men nodded their agreement, with Ezra adding "It was quite satisfactory….." in return.

Miles looked closer at the southerner, noting his pale skin and the slight trembles that shivered across his shoulders despite his best effort to conceal them, and was pretty sure that he knew the reason for the younger man's absence this morning at breakfast. Concerned, he asked, "You don't look overly well….I would be willing to offer the services of my medical team….." he trailed off as Vin snorted in disbelief, Nathan sneered in disdain, and perhaps a hint of territoriality, Chris looked skyward in exasperation and Ezra replied with a firm, "That will not be necessary Mr Weston…Mr Jackson is more than able to administer any medical assistance I may require"

Miles, busy mentally jotting several observations nodded his acquiescence, replying, "Fair enough…the offers still there, should it become needed…" even though he would have liked to press the point; Ezra really didn't look well, Miles could see that his interference would not be appreciated, and so he dropped the subject.

Leaning back against the wall, Miles contemplated his next course of action. He had the whole days activities planned out, and knew that should he chose to; the 7 wouldn't question jumping straight into the evaluation activities. Miles however, could fell the giant pink elephant in the room, and judging from the way that one set of blue eyes refused to meet his, Miles was pretty sure that at least Vin Tanner could feel it as well.

Still unable to believe the team dynamic he was experiencing, Miles none-the-less, now understood that 'when in doubt…obey Larabee' was in no way an exaggeration. It seemed that Larabee was the 'be all and end all', the 'go to guy', the 'commander in chief' of all matters concerning his team's interaction with outsiders…and if he said no…then he meant NO.

Miles was very, very lucky to have been granted a next time, and next time, Miles would listen.

Miles was very sure that he would be aware if the team felt he had slighted them somehow, and was equally sure that he'd know if any of them held a grudge or deemed any sort of comeuppance necessary, however, just because they did not, didn't mean that Miles didn't.

At least an apology was necessary, and so he offered one, "Vin…" he waited for the young man to meet his eyes, noting that it took just slightly longer than was perhaps normal, but was unable to blame him. Seeing that he had not only Vin's, but the rest of the teams attention Miles apologised, "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for what happened yesterday…It is not my prerogative to cause unrest during my evaluations, and nor was it my position to challenge your integrity and honesty…as it were, I believe that you are gifted with an incredible sense of smell…and an extraordinary talent of identifying scents….I had no wish to bring up such memories, please accept my professional and personal apology…"

Vin had gone scarlet at the compliments, and barely managed to mutter an acceptance. Miles felt bad for embarrassing him, but hoped that perhaps it would help undo whatever damage had been done yesterday, already he knew that his evaluations were skewed by his own insensitive interference, he only hoped he could write his report to reflect this.

As he shuffled forwards on the desk again, Miles noticed the changes he saw in some of the men, gone was much of the concealed malice and defensive walls, and in its place he could detect a small amount of respect and burgeoning regard. He clapped his hands together, and spoke, much less reserved, "Okay…right…in any form of employment, the ability to communicate effectively is of utmost importance, and is quickly becoming more indispensable as the world of technological advances. Basically, when face to face communication is becoming obsolete is when it really becomes necessary to be more than proficient. Today we're going to be focusing on a range of activities that highlight how you communicate with one another and as a team, in a manner other than verbally…over the past day and a half I have already observed much of your verbal manner of communicating so today will be non-verbal only…. I will be assessing the styles, systems and reasons motivating your communication…."

Miles could see a few blank looks concealed by nodding, and didn't bother to explain any less technically…in the end, it wasn't necessary for them to understand the tangled words, just the general idea… in all actuality, he often got cleaner results when the team didn't know exactly what he was looking for, because it meant they couldn't fabricate it.

Lifting the briefcase form the floor, Miles flicked it open and drew out 7 cards, each labelled with a number, 1-7 "Right – first activity sounds remarkably simple, but often proves to be anything but…it doesn't really have a name, but I like to call it 'The Card Game' along with about 7 other activities also involving cards…."

Glad for the snigger he received form JD, Miles continued, "I'll give you one card each, do not share your number with anyone, and let no one see it….as that would completely ruin the object of the game…" once he had handed each of the men a card Miles continued, "Okay...simply line up in order of number- smallest to largest, no talking and no showing your card."

The seven looked at him for a second until he made a shooing gesture with his hands, then one by one they got to their feet, Vin offering Ezra a hand, cards tucked against palms as they stared at each other for several seconds. Then Josiah went and stood in the middle of the circle.

It didn't matter how many times Miles had seen this activity done, it was always entertaining. Admittedly, the larger the group the longer it took, but still, the activity involved people wandering around making number signals with their hands, using sign language that only they could understand, hell, he'd even see people jump up and down 5 times on the spot trying to get their number across.

Team 7's approach was completely and utterly strange, and definitely one observation that he would be publishing under the heading, 'logical thinking'.

Josiah had planted himself in the middle of the room, and no one else had moved. Then all of a sudden, Ezra had moved to stand on Josiah's left and JD on his right. Buck stood next to Ezra and Vin on the end next to Buck, Chris and Nathan had taken the other two spots on JD's right.

Miles looked at his watch, although he knew it had all happened in less than a minute, before asking, "Are you finished…are you sure that's the order you want to use?" The seven men had nodded, and Miles had added, "Okay, count off!"

And Vin had said "1"….and along the line it continued, "2" "3" "4" "5" "6" and finished with Nathan on "7" , in perfect order.

Normally Miles would have observed how the team had communicated as they weaved their way about the room, using gestures and other non-verbal cues to order themselves, this time however, Miles was forced to ask.

"Okay…very good….take your seats again…how did you get the order?"

Josiah answered as he sat, "Just logical….I was four…which was the exact middle, so I went and stood in the middle…the others just slotted in around me…the hardest was knowing which way the numbers got smaller…but I figured they'd just go left to right…like in a book…."

The other six nodded their agreement with the profilers explanation and Miles noted '_extreme inter-team parallel logic' _in his mental scribble pad before collecting the cards; normally he'd have a team do it two or three times to highlight patterns and on the spot adjustment learning, but deemed it unnecessary for this team, knowing he'd just receive the exact same results, after all, if a process works…..use it.

Nodding his head at their logical conclusion Miles asked, "That activity is often done in order of birthdates, however, I figured with a team as close as yourselves, as well as the obvious different age groups, that random number orders would reveal more of your communication….and it did, just not in the way I was expecting….in fact I'd say it was more of a lack of communication…normally detrimental, but in this case I think necessary… I think further observation will expand this fact, so…next activity…."

Moving back to the desk under the window Miles began to explain, "Okay…I'm sure you've all heard of charades…." He received nods, and continued, "What about Chinese whispers?" More nods… "Okay…well if those two games got together and had a mutant baby...you would get 'telephone charades'…which we are about to try...I'm going to give…Chris…an idea or an activity, which he is then going to mime to the person next to him, which happens to be Buck, who will then mime what he thought the activity was to JD…etc. etc….once we get back to Vin, he will tell us what the 'whisper' has morphed into, and Chris will reveal the original idea…..understand?"

The seven nodded, and so Miles whispered to Chris, who grinned…although it was more of a grimace, before getting to his feet.

Hip hitched to one side, Chris covered his eyes, obviously in thought, before he stepped up onto his chair. Shaking his head and levelling a glare at his team that absolutely screamed '_not a word_' Chris began his mime. Arms in the air, flailing madly, mouth open in silent terrified scream; he jumped off the chair, doing a strange jerking thing near his waist with his left hand before bringing them both up to wave strangely near his head.

Obviously the glare had worked because no one said anything, although that may have been because most of them were too busy trying not to laugh, or actually laughing. Buck, amongst the ones who had lost battle of straight face had all but succumbed to the hilarity, his head was between his knees, his hands fisted against his ankles as he wheezed through his roaring laughter, and Chris, thinking about how long it had been since he had achieved that all out loss of decorum in his oldest friend, couldn't bring himself to care that it was at his expense.

Sure JD made the man laugh on a daily…hell, minutely basis, and the jovial man was never one for reserved humour…but once upon a time, a time before Sarah and Adam…..this hilarity had been a common occurrence; Chris had all but forgotten how good it felt to make his friend laugh.

Make that… friends laugh.

JD was almost as bad as Buck, but was perhaps a little more reserved than his older friend, after all; this was still _Chris Larabee. _Vin had no such qualms; although his humour was no less rewarding than Bucks, naturally it was much quieter, a decided quirk of the lips and dancing blue eyes.

Also more reserved was Ezra, and Chris knew that the pale skin, slight tremor and fevered flush had very little to do with the retained humour of the southerners small smile and soft chuckles, indeed, it was very rare for Ezra to become as unhinged as Buck, when it did occur, more often than not it seemed that the tracker was involved, and Ezra was shocked by the unlikeliness of a statement that came out of his soft spoken friend.

Nathan, with one eye still on Ezra and the other now on Buck, wondering if CPR may be necessary, was also caught up in the moment if the sniggers and half smirk were anything to go by. It was their oldest, and perhaps wisest that put the point where it belonged though, with the well placed statement of, "And we're supposed to know what _that_ was…." escaping between his own rumbling chuckles.

Chris leaned back in his chair smirking, unembarrassed about his apparently dismal miming skills, all for the one very good reason, which he chose to disclose now, "Well, that's all very well and good…but before you laugh too loud….don't forget, It would be a lot easier to copy what I did if you had any idea what I was doing…so good luck with that" he trailed off as the other six completely failed to sober up at the thought.

Throughout the whole conversation Miles presence, while not forgotten, was mostly ignored, the 7 caught up in the camaraderie that they were here because of. The psychiatrist took it all in, mind running at a hundred miles an hour as he tried to observe, evaluate and preserve each individual action as well as the situation as a whole.

This was what he needed to see…this uninterrupted, uninfluenced, natural behaviour. The activities provided a decent control and base line, but Miles always learnt more from the 'in-between moments', and he was thankful that the team had relaxed enough to be so familiar and loose; he had feared that the situation with Vin the afternoon before had destroyed any hopes of a true evaluation, but now he wasn't as convinced.

Pulling away from his thoughts a little, Miles watched with more attention as the activity continued, with Buck getting to his feet to interpret whatever he thought Chris had been doing.

The ladies' man stepped up onto his own seat, flailed his arms about, screamed silently with a mockingly humorous face of terror and jumped off the chair, jerking his arms and flailing with his hair and neck. It was exactly what Chris had done, and yet it was completely different.

JD, who was snorting quite elegantly while trying to laugh had to point out, "This might sound really stupid…but I think I know exactly what you were thinking about…." And he got to his feet and did his own mime. The similarities remained very obvious, the flailing hands, jumping off the chair and such, but several things became slightly different. JD looked slightly more paranoid/terrified than just plain terrified and he made use of his longer mop of hair to really go nuts waving his hands about and making a right mess of it.

It seemed that JD had interpreted Bucks shenanigans correctly as the older man was nodding through his haze of tears, unable to stop his laughing, Chris was shaking his head thinking…._ there was something…_ but he just couldn't put his finger on it. Miles wondered at the slight change in the three performances he had seen so far, and hoped that Josiah would perhaps help illuminate the new idea.

The profiler got to his feet, although he seemed strangely reticent, he swept his gaze across the room, turning his nose up slightly in an obviously pretentious manner; from his observation so far Miles had Josiah pegged as a friendly, philosophical fairly humble type of man, so he had to wonder at his seeming unwillingness to join in what in all honesty was just good spirited fun. Then the older man facial expression suddenly warped into fear and he lunged up onto the chair, hands waiving and head swivelling in panicky terror, and Miles understood that the seeming reluctance was actually part of Josiah's mime; the man had included getting on the chair in his interpretation of the event. 

Josiah sat back in his seat amidst the laughter of his friends, positive that he had interpreted the 'whisper' correctly, in fact, as far as he could tell, the whole team, including Chris, seemed to have cottoned on to the 'event' that they were miming. From the amused resignation on the blondes face, Josiah was pretty sure that it wasn't the original idea that Miles had chosen.

His thoughts were interrupted by Nathans rendition of the mime, containing all the same basic points, but enhanced with his own subtle brand of humour; for such a calm steadfast man, Nathan could be absolutely side splittingly hilarious when the situation was warranted, and was a dab hand at mimicking. It was so well performed that even Miles burst into laughter; strangely, he too felt that he knew what event the team was dwelling on.

JD was having trouble breathing around his hiccupping gasps, and the steady back thumps Buck was providing didn't seem to help overly much. Vin was muttering something under his breath, only snatches of words audible '_huge…..fuzzy….eat…don't care…didn't see the EYES on this...!_' and Ezra just sunk lower in his seat, the red staining his cheeks not entirely a result of the mild fever he was running.

All eyes turned to the southerner, and Ezra just glared at his shoes, murdering the poor (ridiculously expensive) loafers where they dutifully ensconced his feet. When it became obvious that Ezra wasn't exactly rushing to play his part Miles cleared his throat expectantly as he asked, "Ezra, I believe it is your turn to show us your interpretation?"

Ezra snorted, rather inelegantly and raised his head, shooting a highly affronted look at his team as he answered, "I will NOT….I find that not only is it highly undignified….it is also completely unnecessary…" here his eyes dropped again as he added, "No doubt Mr Tanner has the whole performance in that incredible memory of his, in HD and surround sound….as do the rest of the team….regardless of that fact…I seriously doubt I have the energy to stand, let alone climb up onto my chair…so you'll have to forgive my abstaining from this activity…."

Miles, showing that he had perhaps learnt the most important rule regarding team 7, turned to Chris for his cue and saw it clearly written in the sharp green gaze, although that gaze had yet to leave Ezra's hunched form. Before Miles could speak, pardoning Ezra from his turn, Vin had already stepped in, having also picked up on the nonverbal instructions flying from their leader.

"Well, I'se don't think I's alone in saying that I could never forget Ez's…how did he put it?…_unsavoury, yet completely understandable reaction…_so he doesn't need to do it again...'sides, I doubt that any imitation would be as good as the original...and because I'm last anyway..."

Vin by this stage, had stepped up onto his own chair, in an artless imitation of the men before him, performed his own mime, varyingly similar, yet completely original in its accuracy.

Once Vin had finished and retaken his seat, the seven turned to look in Miles's direction and he knew that they were waiting for him to lead the conversation and activity, but Miles wasn't entirely sure how to go about breaking down the results of the activity he had just witnessed. In any group, the telephone charades 'game' always produced much laughter and craziness as the fallibility of non verbal communication was displayed, yet in all his years Miles had never been witness to such an...in-sinc and connected group.

Even during an activity as random and individual as charades, which based its entire premise on how different people interpret different actions, team 7 had the ability to single in on a memory, idea or situation and depict that idea in a manner easily recognised by all within the group...despite Chris's completely random beginning, once the men had fixated...the cohesion with which they had recognised and displayed the singular idea was a psychiatrists wet dream.

Deciding that it would be best to just get the basic details and results of the activity from the men, and have an in-depth session at a later date to puzzle out the strangeness of it all, Miles turned to Vin, "Okay...well, I must say that was rather...interesting...Vin...you were last...what 'idea' where you trying to portray?"

Vin grinned again, along with the majority of the men, as Ezra groaned and dropped a little lower in his seat, The texan explained, "Late last year Ez had the..._misfortune..._of coming across a... rather large... spider while we were helping Chris clean out his barn..." here, among the sniggering, Ezra took the chance to interrupt, indignant voice correcting, "Rather large...RATHER LARGE? Mr Tanner...the thing was huge...as big as a small dog!...well...it was at least as big as my hand...no...as big as Josiah's hand! "

Trying to talk around his own laughter and over that of the others as well as Ezra's continuing argument, Vin added to his explanation..."And the rest of us just happened to be there as he screamed like a girl...Jumped off the railing he had been sitting on...and leapt into Bucks arms, shouting for us to kill it!"

By this stage Buck was all out laughing, Nathan and Josiah were sniggering at the memory, even Chris was smiling...and JD was all but having breathing problems he was laughing so hard. Ezra, despite being the butt of the joke, and being suitably indignant, also seemed accustomed to the men's reaction, indicating to Miles that it was not malicious or mocking in nature, and that Ezra was aware of the fact. That however didn't stop the southerner from putting the loudest hyena in his place, "Mr Dunne...I would caution you from laughing too much at my expense; after all...it wasn't me who all but fainted when Vin picked that _thing_ up and carried it outside..."

JD's laughter died a little...but even the reminder of his own reaction wasn't enough to halt his mirth and he continued to grin as Ezra shook his head in seeming disgust.

Miles could see that this was a conversation that could easily get away, leading them well and truly off topic, and knew that it was up to him to steer the subject back onto the right track, "Okay…so I'm correct in assuming that the 'whisper' somehow turned into this spider incident….." he received nods, confirming his question before turning to Chris, "And Chris…what was the original idea that I gave you?"

Surprisingly it was not Chris who answered, but Vin...the tracker jerked his head in his best friends direction as he explained, "I'm pretty sure that Chris was trying…badly….to show someone skydiving…and was scared of heights….or maybe that was just what Chris was thinking…"

Miles stared at the younger man for several seconds, unsure what to make of him…after all; he had just described the exact, almost word for word, idea he had given to Chris, and from where Miles had been sitting very little of the leader's performance had been recognisable as anything, let alone skydiving. He knew that Vin had an amazing sense of smell, so there was a fair chance that he may have overheard his whispered suggestion to Chris…but for some reason, Miles just didn't think it was that simple.

Although…taking in the reactions of the other 5 men as Chris confirmed Vin's 'guess', Miles wondered if it was that 'simple 'after all…the eye rolls and mockingly exasperated head shakes seemed to support that perhaps it had nothing to do with actual hearing…but the bond between the two men, which Miles was slowly beginning to recognise, but had no hope of categorising, was simply a matter of regularity and fact among the seven.

Miles added the rather strange thoughts to his mental book of subjects that warranted further and extensive thought at a later date, along with the several other points of interest he had pooled from the activity…wondering exactly how the 'powers that be' actually expected him to be able to decipher the messy cohesiveness that made the wonder that was team seven.

Still contemplating his mental pad, Miles got off the desk; moving the small table into the centre of the circle, placing on it a blank piece of A4 white paper and a black pen. Originally, it had been his intention to call it a day after the last activity, as the one he was planning to try now was both notoriously easy to fail…and extremely hard to gather actual data… it usually resulted in a random mess that bore no significant meaning at all…but Miles had two reasons for trying it with this group.

1 – _**Team 7 seemed to surpass, exceed, outshine, screw, skew and all out break most of the mould data that he'd collected**__ – if any group was going to be able to get an actual result using such a deeply-shallow, individually-unified concept; it was going to be team 7._

2- _**Team 7 seemed to surpass, exceed, outshine, screw, skew and all out break most of the mould data that he'd collected **__ - _Therefore he needed more moulds….he had to widen the data field that he was using, and the only way to do that was to gather more results.

Moving back to the wall, leaning against it now that the desk was gone Miles explained, "Okay guys…this activity is deceiving in its simplicity…but just do your best….there are seven of you…each of you gets one turn…you may use the pen to draw on the paper, however once you lift the pen from the paper, your turn is over…essentially, each of you gets to make one continuous line on the paper….and collectively, using you seven individual lines you have to create a logo, symbol or image that you feel reflects the team…once again…no talking….every one understand?"

Miles had to explain it a second time, just so the seven where clear on exactly what they were being asked to do, before they agreed that they completely understood and Miles was able to indicate that he wished Josiah to start.

The oldest man got to his feet, moving to the desk and picked up the pen, staring at the paper in concentration before he drew his one line, a 10cm diagonal line inkling from left to right.

/

Before he set the pen down and Miles indicated that JD should continue. JD took longer than Josiah to decide what his mark should be, which Miles had expected, after all, the first was definitely easier. Finally JD picked up the pen and reversed Josiah's line, starting where Josiah had finished.

\

Nathan was third and he only spent a cursory minute before he placed his own line, identical to Josiah's but starting where JD's had finished.

/

Chris was next, and Miles knew as soon as he stood that the man knew what the image was going to look like, and the leader supported his theory by immediately placing his own line. Exactly the same as JD's but starting where Nathan had left off.

\

Miles could see the picture forming, a clear image, obviously intended rather than improvised, and it made him wonder…as far as he was aware, no ATF team had its own individual logo…he had in the past seen teams, such as police groups try drawing the police badge shape or some other unified identifying symbol, he'd had paramedics attempt to form the ambulance cross…attempted, because it only took one member to not realise what they were drawing to ruin the entire image. Mind racing to keep up with his thoughts Miles indicated that Buck should take his turn.

Bucks line was the first completely different input, a horizontal line at the same height as the top of the rest of the lines, but a small gap between them, about 8cm in length.

Ezra's turn once again repeated one of the diagonal lines from earlier, beginning where Buck finished and pulling down to the left of the page.

/

In Miles opinion, it formed a clear, concise image that represented the team very well. It also looked complete. Vin had yet to draw his line.

Miles was aware that Vin Tanner was dyslexic, but had yet to really see any of the markers that usually revealed the malady, however, he noticed that when Vin picked up the pen, he seemed to lock gazes with Chris for several second, and then again with Ezra…as if seeking confidence.

Whatever he had been after, the man obviously received it because he firmly put pen to paper and added his line to the other six, a simple horizontal line beneath everything else.

Miles wasn't sure how he had believed that the image was complete before this addition. It was emphasis, weight and stress in one stroke.

The end image seemed unbelievably stark against the white paper, a clearly drawn image with no messy added lines, or odd unused marks.

M7

Magnificent 7.

He had known that the team had been dubbed with the nick-name, presumably after the old western movie, but hadn't been aware of how much the team embodied the name, rather than the name embodying the team.

Bogged down with the connections and fascinating links that his mind was making, Miles barely remembered asking for clarification of the symbol, nor did he actually recall thanking the team for the days efforts and sending them on their way, after informing them that dinner was available in their rooms.

***_Procrastinate now…don't put it off…_***

The seven men stalked, shuffled, walked, shadowed, and scuffled their way out of the meeting room, bemusedly leaving the already madly scrawling doctor to his obviously interesting thoughts, none of the team having any real curiosity in knowing how the shrink was classifying them, each other and their behaviour. It was enough having to be here and participate in the activities.

The shrink had distractedly informed them that dinner was to be taken privately in their rooms, a chance to unwind and relax in totally familiar and friendly surrounds, and all seven men were glad for it. The week so far hadn't been as bad as expected, but it hadn't exactly been a cake walk either, and for such an intensely private, protective team, the chance to regroup and take stock of the situation was welcomed eagerly.

Regardless of the fact that he insisted he was fine, Chris really felt that Ezra had best be resting soon, or they might end up carrying the hunched, slowly ambling southerner back to his room. As it was, Chris was having trouble keeping Nathan on his leash, and he could understand why, the southerner was pale, shaky and seemed to be fighting a headache…he really didn't look very well. However, if Chris knew Ezra, and he did…there was a much higher rate of success to be had in the privacy of their rooms that any public forum when it came to matters of health and perceived weakness.

Thankfully Nathan also seemed to know this and had restrained himself to wafting unhappily along closely behind the southerner, who was tolerating the close hovering reluctantly.

As ever, it seemed that by general consensus the entire group ended up in Ezra's room this time, and within several minutes the gambler had been rushed through his evening absolutions and was comfortably being hovered about on his bed. JD had ordered the required seven meals to the room and been given a 20 minute waiting period. Buck had flicked the TV on quietly and Nathan was forcing several Tylenol down Ezra's throat while trying to get him to keep the dampened cloth over his flushed face, although with varying degrees of success.

Vin had followed Ezra through the bathroom process, emerging in a pair of threadbare trackies just as dinner arrived, and in short order the seven where seated in varying places all over the room, inhaling, eating, picking at, or being told not to pick at their food.

It was obvious that Ezra really had no appetite but he kept eating anyway, because it was painfully clear that he'd have a fight on his hands should he refuse, Nathan was aware that he hadn't really eaten in the past 36 hours, and Ezra knew that if the medic didn't get his way, then Chris definitely would.

Buck and JD had only been embroiled in their french fry revolution for about ten minutes when Buck was announced the victor, seeing as Vin had stolen all of JD's fries right from under his nose. That of course, had led to the smirking Texan being pegged with pieces of bread, most of which he caught and ate.

The day had been quite peaceful; fun even… certainly uneventful…but still, Chris was uneasy. He always was when they were out of their natural habitat, AKA the Denver region. It may have something to do with the fact that in Denver, anyone who was anyone knew of Black Larabee and his reputation…it all basically boiled down to: you don't cross Larabee…and you certainly don't touch his team. Chris had a reputation, and as stupid as it may seem, his reputation protected them. Out here, where his reputation didn't wrap around them like a heavy blanketing cloud he felt naked and exposed.

The dinner dishes had been cleared to a tray outside the room and the seven where sitting around, engage in conversation, dozing or watching the football game, and just generally enjoying the company. Chris had straddled one of the chairs and was embroiled in a thrilling, engrossing conversation with his tracker, despite the fact that neither had said a word in the past five minutes. Vin was on the floor, leaning against Ezra's bed, where the ill man was studiously ignoring JD and Bucks shenanigans at the foot of his bed, other than to deliver the occasional kick when one of them got too close for comfort. Josiah was snoozing on the other bed, not yet asleep, but not exactly awake either. The medic was at the table, digging through each of the small medi-kits he had packed in the six others bags, which Buck had just fetched for him.

Ezra had started to cough a little throughout the day, and Nathan knew that if he could nip it in the bud things would proceed a lot more smoothly for both Ezra and the rest of the team. However, after searching through his own extensive first-aid kit, which he never went anywhere without, and then upending the whole thing onto the floor and still being unsuccessful at locating the honey throat lozenges, he had offered the menthol ones, which he knew Ezra detested with a passion, and received the expected refusal.

So Buck had run his errand and returned with the rest of the small med kits which Nathan was now purloining. Finally he located both the honey lozenges and the cough syrup in Chris's bag and distributed them to the protesting Ezra, who destroyed his own credibility by chocking on a fit of coughing while trying to insist that he had no need for the medicine.

After he had ensured that Ezra was as settled as it appeared he was going to be, Nathan broached the next topic; gearing up for what could be either a battle or a cake walk. "Vin, I would like to swap rooms with you…I'll share with Ezra and you move in with Josiah…" Nathan had no qualms about Josiah, he knew the older man was wise enough to understand that he wouldn't do anything that he didn't deem necessary, especially not concerning his two most reticent patients. Vin and Ezra on the other hand…..

Sure enough, Vin immediately jumped in with, "I thought you said Ezra's cold was mild...it is, right?"

At the same time Ezra interrupted with, "Mr Jackson, I assure you, it is completely unnecessary to go to such trouble on my behalf…."

Nathan groaned silently and then went about navigating the waters with as much skill as he possessed hoping he wouldn't hit a boulder, "Yes Vin, Ezra's cold is mild…I just want to make sure it stays that way….and Ezra…just…do as your damn well told for once…." As he said the last sentence to the southerner, Nathan was careful to make steady eye contact and let his gaze slip towards Vin pointedly, in a way he hoped Ezra would catch but Vin would not.

It took a fleeting instant, which wouldn't have been necessary had Ezra been at the top of his game, but the gambler cottoned on fast enough, _ this wasn't about him… _and he was quick to jump the fence_ "_Of course Mr Jackson, if you insist…."

Too quick.

Vin jumped on the abrupt change from Ezra, knowing that if the other man was no longer arguing about something medically related, then it no longer related to himself. He was on his feet before he started to speak, voice already angry, despite the fact that no one was doing anything to upset him. It was another sign that the calm waters were only surface deep. "This ain't got nothing' to do with Ez!" the Texan gestured angrily towards his friend, who's slightly guilty look was telling him more than anything else.

Ezra knew that he'd stuffed up, he never would have if he wasn't so tired and feeling lousy, but it had happened, and now it was time for damage control; he tried to placate the younger man "Vin…if you would just listen…"

Vin, however, wasn't interested in listening, and angrily broke through, "No! I ain't sick…I ain't hurt…I ain't missing…everything is fine…I don' need no coddling…If Ez don need Nathan's help then there's no reason to change rooms! "

Chris could see that things were getting out of control, and Vin was running his mouth, but he felt that this one was on Nathan…he'd back the man, but it was Nathan's play. Nathan didn't disappoint, "For gods sake Vin! You don't even know why I suggested it! I have a bloody good reason!" he called across the room, voice firm and no nonsense…_Vin was going to listen_.

Apparently Vin missed that memo, because he stalked across the room, cutting across Nathan, spitting, "Bullshit! Ya jus' said it was 'cos Ez was sick and now it's not! Why the hell should I believe ya now…If ya cared at all….?"

Vin seemed to realise that the line was two foot behind him at about the same time Nathan did, and prudence indicated that he should hastened back across it with a quick apology, but prudence must have been on holidays because in the face of Nathan's own disbelieving hurt anger, he just crossed his arms, face tight and angry.

Nathan knew the younger man felt boxed in and ganged up upon, like everyone was sticking their nose in his business…he knew how much Vin hated being what he perceived as a burden or hindrance, and the young man didn't understand that people, especially his team, would want to make sure he was as okay as he possibly could be. Nathan knew that Vin hadn't meant what he'd said, but the point was that he'd said it anyway.

The medic shot to his own feet, and he saw Vin all but physically back down, but knew that the Texan wouldn't, couldn't, give an inch…not yet anyway. Nathan didn't yell…he had no need to, his soft cutting voice made more impact than any scream "Vin. I do want to keep an eye on Ezra…I don't want his cold to become your pneumonia…the last of which I nursed you through only a month or two ago, because you wouldn't go to a hospital…" he saw a certain look enter Vin's gaze and recognised it instantly as guilt, and realising that his line of scolding had suddenly changed tracks he softened his voice slightly, changing the lilt in his tone as he admonished gently, "Vin…don't even think that…I didn't mind doing it…in fact…I was damn happy that you trusted me enough…but that's the point…you need to trust me…trust that I wouldn't ask for no reason…yes….I should have just told you why from the beginning…but…would you honestly have listened?"

Vin had eased himself onto the foot of Josiah's bed as the bluster and anger swept out of him, "No…no…I wouldn't have listened…sorry Nate…I jis'…It always ends up being about me….I ain't even sick…Ez is!...I'se not a baby..."

Nathan sat back down as well, knowing that he's as good as won the argument, but intent on making sure Vin knew how serious he was, "Vin…I know you're not a baby…we all do…you're an extremely capable agent…a very good person….and a better friend than any I have known…only matched by the rest of these block heads..." he paused to let his words sink in, and let the bluster from several of the 'block heads' die down, pleased by the dusting of pink that graced Vin's cheeks; he only ever really blushed when he was pleased with something…Nathan had never seen him blush at an insult or derogatory comment, the medic wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, but he was glad for the indication that Vin had taken his words on-board in the spirit they were intended.

Nathan continued, "Because I'm _your_ friend, I also know that you're tired, because you didn't sleep well last night…don't drop your eyes…_I'm_ still upset about the blindfold incident, of course it's okay that you're having nightmares…I'd be surprised if you weren't…but Vin….You recovered from pneumonia only a few months ago, your immune system is weak, you're already tired…it's going to be a long week…I don't want you catching Ezra's cold…too much of a chance you re-lapse….and _that's_ why I want _you_ to swap rooms with _me_… if I wasn't also concerned about Ezra, I'd just have you swap with Josiah…okay?"

Vin already knew that he couldn't answer with anything other than a nod, not after the performance he'd just put on, nor after Nathan's gentle, but non-negotiable explanation, and so he nodded, moving to put the few belongings that were scattered about the room back into his bag.

The others also got to their feet, putting soft drink cans, crisp bags and Twinkie wrappers in the bin, flicking the TV off and generally getting ready to call it a night. Despite the relatively early hour, it was obvious that the night's revelry was drawing to a close; even though the argument had been settled in a peaceable manner, neither Vin nor Nathan had forgotten the words spoken, and while any and all indiscretion had been forgiven, neither really felt like company.

Buck and JD, after stuffing the remaining twinkies in their pockets, headed back to their room, politely ignoring Josiah's comments about cavities and pot bellies as he trailed after them. Chris had slipped out behind Josiah while Ezra had disappeared into the bathroom again; Nathan was busy putting the final few things back into his upended first aid-kit.

Vin shouldered his bag and headed for the door, as he reached it he hesitated, hand on the knob, before shaking his head and turning back to the silently observing medic. The younger man leaned nonchalantly against the doorframe, appearing about relaxed and carefree as a kitten jacked up on smack. "N- …..Nate, I'se…I'm sorry…'bout what I said….din't mean it…I jus' wanted to make sure you knew that I din't mean it…I know I shouldn't have said it…I jis' get _so _sick of everyone...well…_all you lot_…treating me like a kid…I ain't a kid…haven't been for a long time now…is' no excuse, I know…but…." He trailed off, eyes beseeching Nathan to throw him something…to help him understand _why._

Each of the six men that Nathan considered under his personal care was as different to the others as he could possibly get, yet Nathan had discovered that one thing remained constant in every single one of them; their ability to completely and utterly bamboozle him with their seeming inability to behave in the manner befitting the given situation. And Vincent Tanner was the worst of the lot.

Naturally, and thankfully, this surprising trait was a good thing more often than not, _(Ma'am…You just told me I was an inbred hillbilly…__**of course**__ I'll help you with your groceries…)_ and the number of times that Vin Tanners innate…_goodness_ had stumped him just kept growing. Then there were the times that had Nathan almost screaming in rage… he'd already sworn to god, Zeus, Merlin and any other deity who would listen; that if he ever got his hand on the monsters from Vin's childhood…

And then there were the times that made him shake his head in disbelieving bemusement, such as this one… how on earth could Vin not know _himself _ well enough to see what the other six could see?

And that bought Nathan back to the demons of a dark childhood.

Nathan, as tuned to the men he cared for as he ever was, sighed at the carefully constructed smoke screen that he could see right through, and reaching over he pulled out the seat beside him at the table, indicating that Vin should sit.

The younger man all but slumped into the inviting chair, turned towards Nathan with inquisitive anxiety, blue eyes shadowed but bright.

Nathan smiled softly, answering the asked question first, "Vin, I know you didn't mean it and your apology is accepted…it'll be a day for hypocrites when one of us has a go at you about your temper…although…yours does seem particularly spectacular when it makes an appearance…probably because you're naturally so even tempered…"

Nathan grinned as Vin hung his head, nodding in agreement, before tackling the _unasked _question, "I know you're an adult Vin…and I know you've been on your own for a very long time…far too long….but Vin…you are not alone anymore…you have us, the six of us…every bit as much as we have you…" Nathan could see that Vin was taking in what he was saying, but wasn't really _hearing_ him.

New tact.

"Vin…remember when Chris got shot..." The medic noted that Vin immediately straightened up, face closing a little as he narrowed his eyes, the tracker asked softly, "Which time…"

Nathan almost snorted at the seemingly obtuse answer; the thought that someone may get shot once, let alone more than once….but with these men…, "When he was winged by Runger's bulldog…"

That had the expected response. Runger had been a particular sleazy arms dealer that the team had taken on last year…the takedown had gone fine, until Chris had been graze-shot by Gunger's vicious 2nd in command. The wound itself hadn't been serious at all, as far as gunshot injuries go, but there had been an awful mix up at the end of the bust that had led most of the team to believe that Chris was dead.

This was bad enough, but Vin had allowed Chris to get shot.

Deliberately.

From his angel on high position he had been able to see the situation unfold below, and had immediately noticed that the bulldog had pulled a bead on Chris; he also saw that both Buck and Josiah had seen this as well, and looking at the distance and angle between the bulldog and Chris, had determined that the bullet wouldn't do more than graze their leader.

JD would not be so lucky.

The gunrunner who had just sighted the exit behind their youngest agent was set on steam rolling JD in an attempt to flee. He was less than 5 foot away, and with that cannon he was sporting, he couldn't miss…Vin didn't hesitate in shooting, putting the guy down with one clean bullet to the chest.

And then it had all gone to hell.

And Vin had spent the next 3 hours knowing he'd killed his best friend.

It had been, without a doubt, the _worst_ experience of his entire life.

Even though not a single disparaging word had passed any of his friend's lips, nor Chris's once they'd found him alive and hale, if not a little grouchy, Vin still wondered if he had been right to make the call…but in the end, and the only thought that really comforted him…_Chris's life for JD's?_

_Chris would have his hide for even thinking the words._

Nathan could see that Vin remembered, how could he not, it was a memory that the all kept close….but none more so than Vin…time to make his point, "Remember how you felt?….That's how we felt after your last case…Chris sent you in…and we all supported that you should stay…because of the children…even after they…even when you told us what they had…we so badly wanted to save the children... we feel we let you down…made the wrong call…"

Nathan knew that Vin wanted to argue, but knew he had to get this out, make him understand, so he continued, "I know you don't think that Vin, that you don't blame us….that you would have done it anyway….but …when we found you…It was snowing….one of the kids heard us calling, found us in the forest and took us to where you had hidden them…you were blue from cold, your skin was ice…I honestly believe you were only breathing because of the seven little kids who still needed their hero…we thought we had lost you….."

Vin was still, silent…Nathan knew that he had never heard any of this…only that they'd followed his carefully planned signs that he'd planted and found him…and that he'd woken up in hospital 4 days later, he'd demanded to be released the next day, and against medical advice, had allowed Nathan to care for him at Chris's ranch as he recovered.

"Do you see Vin? Do you remember sticking pretty close to Chris for the few weeks after he was shot…I know I do…..and Vin…this was a hundred times worse on our end….. I'm sorry if my….our hovering is irritating you…we know you're not a child…but if my meddling means I never have to watch one of my best friends…someone I love like a younger brother… struggles for breath as his lips turn blue, or hacks until I think a lung will come up….ever, ever again….then it's worth it."

Vin stared at Nathan as he wound down, blue eyes wide at the usually calm man's breathless, emotional explanation, seemingly too stunned to say anything in response.

And then Nathan saw the palpable understanding dawn in the bright blue eyes, as Vin finally _got it._

The younger man nodded, seemingly shy, yet unmistakeably not as he got to his feet, and turned to leave.

Stopping at the door once again, Vin turned back, saying softly, "Nate…it wasn't just for the children…" and ghosted out, leaving the door to shut softly behind him.

Nathan stared at the door for several seconds, knowing that something phenomenal in their relationship had just occurred, before the door at the other end of the room opened and Ezra wondered out from his politely considerate hiatus in the bathroom. As he wondered across to his bed he spoke to the still contemplative Nathan, "Sometimes….his eloquence astonishes me…not for the children…._indeed._ "

Nathan just nodded, and stood up, following Vin's path to the door, throwing over his shoulder "I'm just going to get my bag…You…bed."

He shut the door on Ezra's "Yes Mum."

_*****If you are still reading this…well…you're still reading this…*****_

Vin stepped out into the hallway, turned left and took a step, stopping cm's from a pair of bright green eyes and a 'devil may care smirk'. He stumbled backwards, glaring at Chris as his friend grabbed his arm to keep him upright…not that Vin could complain, because he took every opportunity to startle Chris he could find, and he was almost always more successful than the blond.

"Ha ha…ya funny…what'cha doing litter'n the hallway with your mangy carcass anyway?" Vin growled at the sniggering man.

Chris shoved off from where he was leaning against the wall, answering as he ushered Vin down the hall, "Well, I was waiting for you, cos you're gonna bunk with me…"

Vin stopped in his tracks, causing Chris to turn to meet him squarely as the tracker asked in a dry tone "Why?"

Chris scanned the blue eyes, scanned the tight face and thought on his possible answers; it would have to be the truth, as he wasn't in the habit of lying to his best friend, and he had no intention of starting now.

From what Ezra and Nathan, as well as Vin himself had indicated, the Texan was having nightmares again…or _still…_and Chris was, in all honesty, the one Vin was most comfortable with. If the nightmares were even half as bad as they had been just after the incident…then Vin would need all the comfort Chris, and anyone else, could give.

Apart from Nathan, and perhaps Ezra, the only person that Chris trusted to notice if Vin was feeling unwell before it became plague proportions was himself. And as both Ezra and Nathan were already fully booked…

Chris smirked at Vin as he carefully chose his answer, shrugging one shoulder indifferently "Josiah snores…"

Vin tilted his head to the side, reading Chris's face, and then he shrugged as he hefted his bag and started towards Chris's room again, drawling sarcastically over his shoulder…"_Lead on oh great Saviour!"_

And so Chris did.

_*****Okay…do not read below this page break…really. There's no more chapter…*****_

A/N – Told you so – no more chapter.

Okay, the much awaited, long anticipated THIRD INSTALLMENT of PHSYCOBABBLE.

Not happy Jan!...With the chapter I mean. Let me know if you agree/disagree…like hate…WANT MORE?


	5. Trust

_**Psychobabble **_

_Disclaimer: If only..._

A/N - This chapter just would not stop...I went through a stage where I lost the majority of this chapter and dreaded starting again...and then I couldn't stop writing...I'm like..."But the end of the chapter is _back_ _there_" points...but my muse does not care. *What the muse demands...sigh.

**Also...I have no idea how to type a very badly played harmonica...so bear with my attempt in the spirit it is offered...or tell me if you have any better ideas.

**Chapter 4: Trust**

It slid across his lips, as comforting and cool as ever, tasting slightly of copper and leaving a strangely painless tingle in its wake. All smooth metal, polished corners and deep etching under his fingers, a memory that he could hold, and a dream he had while awake.

'**Whhha…wha, whooo, squaaaaaaa…whiss….waaa'**

The music, if you could call it that, filled the late night air, each note harshly beautiful as he played.

Letting the pillow that had been clamped over his head go, Chris rolled over in the single bed, wary of the looming edge, and propped himself up on one elbow, the other moved to scrabble on the shelf above his head for his watch. After pushing at least all of the other buttons he finally managing to illuminate the face revealing glowing digital numbers, _2:48am. _ Breathing long and deep through tightly clenched teeth, green eyes half lidded with exhaustion looked to the other occupant of the inky blackness that engulfed their room.

"**Vin"**

At Chris's firmly presented query, although just a word, the Texan let the harmonica fall from its position at his mouth and he raised a querying eyebrow at the blond.

"**Hmmm?"**

Chris rolled his eyes at the innocent murmur, Vin damn well knew what he was talking about…he'd only been squawking on the thing for the past three and a half hours, on or off. Chris had let him play unimpeded for the first hour, knowing that the harmonica had been the last thing Vin's mother had ever given him, and breathing on the damn thing let him relax, but COME ON…surely an hour was enough for anyone's sensibilities. Chris had started sighing and groaning after that and had finally rolled his back to Vin and pulled the pillow over his head, hoping that sending a clear message would get Vin to go to sleep. Vin had stopped playing…for all of two minutes…and that had been an hour and a half ago.

"**Full day tomorrow…"**

Vin sighed and let the harmonica drop to his chest, and tucked his hands up behind his head, how Chris knew that Vin was nodding into the dark room he had no idea, but he knew the Texan was agreeing. Sighing in relief, Chris flopped back onto the bed, and allowed his eyes to close again.

Several minutes later in a deep fugue, all but asleep, dropping off into that drowsy no man's land right before full slumber, Chris was suddenly propelled back into wakefulness.

'_**Whaaa…whoo..SKwaa…**_'

He shot upright, hand going for his hip before he remembered he was in his sweat pants, in a hotel room, with Vin.

Vin.

"**I swear Tanner…lose it or I'll shoot ya!"**

The noise abruptly cut off, and Chris was sure he _heard_ Vin all but roll his eyes at the overused threat, knowing that Chris would never back it up. Grumping moodily he rolled the pillow back over his head, thinking _there's always a first time, _as he ignored his room partner's muttered apology focusing only on the solid 'CLINK' as the harmonica found a resting place on the small shelf above Vin's bed.

The room was silent, completely silent, for the next few minutes, absent even the general noises, such as unimpeded natural breathing and sheets rustling. Chris knew that Vin was lying rigid in the other bed, eyes staring at the ceiling which he could not see in the dark.

Then gradually, a new discord of noises filled the small room, although these Chris welcomed; a soft sigh, then twist of bedding as someone sought a comfortable position, a hand gently thumping against a wall as the person misjudged the distance.

The noises slowly decreased and the time span between disturbances increased, until just a soft intake of air was heard, followed by a quiet exhale as the breaths evened out.

Chris finally allowed himself to slip back into his own unimpeded slumber, fatigued mind easing.

"**SqAAA…Wooo, Sqii, Whaaaa"**

Throwing the covers off, uncaring that his pillow thumped against the opposite wall, Chris stalked out of his bed, in a way that only Chris Larabee could, the room vibrated as his feet thumped on the floor although he made no noise. Ignoring the goose bumps that rose on his skin from the cool air Chris prowled across the room, all two menacing steps. Looming over the prone tracker, he clamped a large hand on Vins shoulder, heavily running his hand down the slim arm, tracing from shoulder to wrist, finally locating the loathsome _thing_ still in the slender fingers. He pulled insistently, and after only an instant of resistance Vin gave, allowing Chris to confiscate the harmonica.

"**Go. To. Sleep."**

He moved back to his own bed, placing the harmonica gently on his own bed head, and noting the glowing numbers on his watch, _3:51am,_ gratefully slipped back beneath the covers. No sound emanated from the other bed, not a pissed off '_Give it back!' _or an upset brooding sigh…just nothing…throwing an arm over his eyes Chris sighed in vexation, nothing was ever simple with these men. Rolling back onto his side, facing the Texan, Chris was wondering whether to apologise and return the instrument or to berate the stubborn man for being a brat.

He had no illusions that he was the boy's…man's… father…and really had no right to assume such responsibility…on the other hand…didn't Vin given him some of that responsibility every time he allowed Chris to take control without an argument?

He had opened his mouth, still unsure as to what he intended to say when the soft projectile form of his pillow hit him in the head with a fair wallop accompanied by Vin's soft drawl.

"**Man who wants ta sleep shouldn' throw his beddn' around…**"

Chris grinned into the dark, accepting the subtle apology as he punched his newly returned pillow into just the right shape. Relaxing, he again listened as Vin drifted off, the Texan's journey closer to sleep revealed through small changes in movement and breathing until finally Chris closed his own eyes, secure in the knowledge that he would finally be able to sleep uninterrupted.

It was less than an hour later that Chris was once again propelled into wakefulness, although this time he immediately knew something was wrong. Although he was not met with the caterwauling sound of the harmonica, indeed, he couldn't hear a damn thing; somehow he _knew _that all was not well.

No vocal sounds emanated within the room, but Chris could tell from the panicked rustling of tangled bedding that his roommate was, if not still _experiencing_ a nightmare, at least trapped in the last drowsy vestiges of sleep…and the nightmare he'd definitely _been_ having.

It was one of peculiarities that the team had unfortunately discovered; as opposed to the usual screaming, shouting, terrifyingly loud nightmares, Vin was always virtually silent, in fact in most cases only the pinched look of discomfort gave away that his slumber was anything other than peaceful. Despite being unable to see his hand in front of his face, due to the fact that Chris always slept with his room as dark as possible, he was immediately aware the instant that Vin woke completely.

There was sudden absence of all sound and then a soft hitched breath of distress, followed by two, then three more. Chris tensed, ready to move, worried that Vin was having a panic attack, when it was suddenly quiet again and Vin sighed long and slow, relief audible. Chris heard the slim fingered hands crease the material of a pillow and the rustle of tawny tangles as Vin ran his fingers through his hair, a softly hissed curse barely audible.

"**Damn idjit….' Is over!**"

Chris was pretty sure he knew what had happened. Vin had obviously been dreaming about the blindfold case, and upon waking to engulfing darkness, had assumed he was still blind. Flashback.

He sat up slowly, unsure if Vin would prefer an oblivious roommate or a well-meaning friend.

Hell…he knew which one _Vin_ would prefer…the real question was; which one did Vin deserve?

No question.

Rolling out of the bed, not paying the least attention to the cold this time, Chris slipped across the room to flick on the light, making plenty of noise, so as not to startle Vin.

Pale skin, rosy cheeks and bright eyes barely met his as he padded across to Vin's bed, asking softly, "Nightmare?"

Vin nodded, shamefaced.

Chris continued, sitting on the side of the bed as he added another query, "Flashback?"

Again, another embarrassed nod.

"Blindfold?" the blond wanted to confirm, not liking Vin's pallor, nor his mortified behaviour.

Receiving a slight nod Chris placed his hand reassuringly on one slender bowed shoulder, squeezing gently as he said, "Want me to kill Weston for you?"

Vin again went to nod, and then stopped, wide blue eyes flying to Chris's utmost serious face, and then he slumped, grinning as he slugged Chris on the arm, flopping back onto the bed, "Bastard" he drawled without malice.

Chris grinned, glad that he'd managed to garner a rueful smile, but not wanting Vin to sweep it all under the carpet added, "Nothing to be ashamed about…just memories creeping up on you..."

Vin smiled at the uncharacteristic gentleness that softened Chris's face, answering his friend, "Yeah…you'd know better than most 'bout them I s'pose….." 

Chris clapped a hand on a covered knee as he got back to his feet, saying, "Not light out yet…I'm going to try for a few more hours…." He trailed off at the end, expecting a response from Vin.

The younger man moved to pull the curtain slightly back from the dark window, able to sense the dawning light, about an hour away, and shook his head stiffly as he threw the covers back, getting to his feet, fishing for the track pants he'd flung over the chair the morning before, and grabbing his worn runners from beside the door.

Dressed within seconds, flexing his muscles and stretching Vin made for the door, throwing over his shoulder, "Not for me…reckon I'se gonna go for a run…save me some coffee…" and with that he was gone.

Chris sighed as he pulled the covers back up, sure, Vin liked to jog of a morning…hell, Chris joined him on occasion…but he knew that Vin only ran before light had touched the horizon when he was avoiding something.

Rolling to his other side, hoping to circumvent any light that might stream through the cracks in the curtain come sun up Chris tried to relax, twisting to curl his cold feet further into the blanket, pulling the cover up to hide all but his nose, not enjoying the tingling sensation of the strangely cold morning.

Nathan would probably pitch a fit when he found out about Vin's early morning exercise; and there was no doubt that he would find out.…Chris could already hear the medic bemoaning the cold air, Vin's weakened lungs, lack of sleep and every other thing he could possibly find. The man was a worrier, completely and utterly without shame or remorse…and, probably due to recent events; Vin Tanner was his main target.

Vin Tanner who hated being a bother, couldn't stand being fussed over, was as self-dependant and stubborn as they come and, as far as Nathan was concerned, often lacking a vast amount of adequate self-preservation… that was, when he didn't hold to the notion that he was bulletproof, which Nate had declared induced a _total_ lack of any self-preservation.

Sometimes Chris was inclined to agree.

Thankfully though, for all that Chris was the unmitigated leader of their little band of misfits and held, quite possible, an unreasonable amount of responsibility and accountability as far as they were concerned, Nathan had at least recognised the fact that Vin Tanner was an adult, and as such, Chris wasn't really at fault for every fool stunt the tracker pulled. The medic understood that Chris really held no influence over the younger man's actions.

Nathan was still going to roast him alive when the medic realised he'd let Vin leave without a shirt.

Despite the quiet still of the early hour, the complete lack of any disturbance to keep him from sleep and the less than adequate nights rest he'd had; twenty minutes later found the blond man seated at the small table, steaming coffee in hand, and second cup awaiting hot water on the bench.

Sleep was highly overrated anyhow.

In a room on the far side of the hotel another man was also inhaling coffee like it was going out of style, savouring the rich aroma and almost scalding heat in the cool morning air. He'd finished transposing his scrawled notes to fairly legible, often unbelievable reports on his laptop, but looking over the data he had correlated on each of the seven, and on the team as a whole there was only one certainty that he could deduce.

The ATF brass would have more hope of working peaceably with the FBI than recreating this team's dynamics successfully.

Sighing, he deleted the paragraph that blatantly stated this fact from what he had managed of his evaluation so far, knowing that for all that it was the truth, the higher ups would never accept it as such, they wanted what they wanted and Miles would have to produce _something _to that effect.

Shoving the laptop; gently…he'd already broken two, onto the bed beside him, Miles slipped from beneath the covers, sliding his feet into the warm slippers with ease of practice. The flat blue checked feet warmers were one of his secret indulgences, they were, without a doubt classified as '_grandpa slippers_' a fact that one of his ex's had scornfully thrown at him during one of their break up arguments. For some reason, Miles hadn't really believed her_ 'It's not me…it's you!' _crap when she'd blamed their breakdown on his completely unfashionable foot wear…he'd been devastated to let that on go.

Come to think of it, for all that he was a famous knowledge on the interworking of the human mind; he sure had shit luck with relationships.

To be honest though, Molly had been endowed with a pair of great…..personalities.

Woman had been a complete psycho.

Once again grinning at his awesome inter-cranial wit, Miles stretched, deciding, as he did every evaluation that he really should stick to his posture-pedic chair rather than his bed. He strolled across the polished wooden floors, loving the look, despite knowing that carpet would have been a wiser choice. The valley was an unpredictable place weather wise; in the years that Miles had called it home he'd seen the temperature go from sweltering hot to below freezing overnight, he'd had hail, small tornadoes and a vast variety of other natural phenomenon…some hippy climatologist from one of his past evaluations had suggested that the Valleys uneven ridges created suction and then there had been some other words, but Miles had already tuned out.

He wasn't stupid…the weather certainly wasn't caused by vengeful gods, witches or kryptonite in the soil…of course there was a natural scientific explanation…he just didn't care to learn it.

Looking out the floor four window Miles enjoyed the view; dark green mountains lined every edge of his vision, the hazy mist that crowned them in wispy clouds only just visible in the still dark morning. As his eyes tracked closer, entering the Valley proper his keen gaze swept the outskirts of the shadowy Bavarian forest, picking up the inky blackness of Lake Geryn and its twin Lake Norfa…supposedly named after some explorer couple from the early 1900's. Miles had his own names for them; Yin and Yang.

The rustling grass was all that he could hear from darkness engulfed field that spread from the forest, between the lakes and to the resort. It had been cleared long before his arrival, the wood having been used to build the original homestead and ranch that had long since fallen into history.

In all, it was a spectacular view…and it was about to become glorious.

The fog that topped the mountains was suddenly luminescent in peals of coiling pink and fiery red, glowing pearly as the golden orb slowly breached the darkness of the valley. As the sun climbed the sky the shadows retreated, the light streamed into the rear of the forest, attempting to illuminate every corner of the colossal darkness that was the Bavarian. The sheer thickness of the trees and the dense canopy made it all but impossible, and the promise of a golden lit forest was lost as the sun continued to climb, but the resulting wonder was more than equal. As the light slowly dulled among the branches, natural greenery began to engulf much of the sunshine and within minutes the whole forest was alight with a radiant green glow, like a dark glittering emerald set against the now golden ring that was the misty mountain tops bathed with early sunlight.

As the sun rose higher the light crept further into the valley, inching across Lake Geryn until it was lit with a brilliant white glimmer as the sun reflected of the clear blue water, while Lake Norfa remained in still blackness, hence; Yin and Yang. Slowly though the sun climbed and both Lakes returned to their natural clear blue water, and Miles brought his gaze closer to the resort, fixating on the fields; this was always his favourite part.

As the light bathed the inner reaches of the deep valley, the green field lit up like a crystal incrusted dreamscape, the dew set on the slim strands of grass, and silky gossamer spiders webs catching and throwing shades of soft reflective colours; greens of the grass, blues of the sky, red from thousands of lady bugs and sparkles of pristine white from a nesting bird, pinks, yellows and purples from the many wild flowers; all alight with the glow of heaven…or as close as Miles figured he'd ever been.

And just as soon as it had come, so it was gone as the sun rose higher and the angle of the light shifted, leaving the Valley bleached with the soft light of dawn, but Miles wasn't saddened; after all…he'd get to see it all again tomorrow morning.

Leaning against the window sill Miles sighed in wonder; in a world with so much beauty, free for all…why was money and power the root of all greed?

As he went to turn away from the window, back to the seemingly impossible task waiting for him on his bed, something out of place caught his gaze, and he turned back.

A flash of blue on the stone path that wound its way through the resorts gardens and Miles pinpointed Vin Tanners swiftly moving form as the slight man jogged along the path. Miles wondered how long he'd been out there and if it was a common occurrence for Vin to go running before sun up; he hadn't noticed the man any other morning, but that wasn't necessarily a deductive answer.

The fact that the tracker was a jogger didn't surprise him in the least, he'd seen enough of the man to recognise the whip lean physique of someone who was constantly active. He was surprised however that the younger man had ventured out without a shirt, from what he had garnered, the tracker was almost painfully shy and self-conscious; perhaps he figured that no one would be around at that hour of the morning.

He'd be right of course, but it did beg some wondering.

Miles had been informed about the room reconfiguration late last evening, and had wondered about the reason behind the changes. The seven men wouldn't rearrange their sleeping arrangements for no apparent reason; it only remained to be seen whether it had been for convenience or personal reasons. The most likely scenario was that Nathan had wanted to room with Ezra because the younger man hadn't been feeling well, but Miles was aware that Vin and Chris shared a strangely deep bond, he couldn't help but wonder what conversation had occurred before the change of rooms.

Another puzzle to put together when he met with the men in a few hours.

The easy and straightforward activities were done, communication had been deciphered as well as he was going to manage and tomorrow they would be moving beyond the simple topics into much more personal and highly intimate themes, themes that Miles guessed where the most relevant to his given task…today however, promised to be fun, and hopefully informative in the preliminary aspects of the next topic.

Trust.

Chris looked up from his coffee when a knock sounded at his door and he was completely unsurprised when it was pushed open to admit Nathan, he was however, very surprised to see Ezra follow the medic in.

"Morning boys…" Chris called softly…"Coffee's on…."

Nathan answered his greeting in like as he poured his own cup of coffee, throwing over his shoulder, "Coffee Ezra?"

A wordless grunt answered him; and Nathan turned to see what _that_ was supposed to mean and had to smile at the southerner. As soon as he had entered the room Ezra had made a bee line straight for the small couch and, despite being much too tall for it, was currently curled into a tiny ball, face pressed into the striped fabric, apparently intent on not actually waking _just_ yet.

Shaking his head Nathan pulled up the seat beside Chris, "Obviously not" he remarked, turning to their smirking leader, "Vin?"

The question was apparent and Chris inclined his head to the bathroom as he asked his own, "Ezra awake and out of bed before 9 am…however did you manage that?"

Nathan looked to the closed bathroom and noted that if he strained he could hear the quiet sound of running water, nodding he answered Chris, "Well, that's the strange part…he was awake and ready before I was…not sure what's going on in his head, but knowing Ezra…its likely we won't find out until he wants us to… besides, apart from coughing half the night, he seemed to sleep okay…"

Chris snorted in disbelief, "Just my luck…You had the sick one and I end up with the one who didn't sleep…"

Nathan looked away from Ezra, concern creasing his gentle face, "Vin didn't sleep at all?"

Chris eased back in his chair, he was walking a fine line here, if he said the wrong thing or gave a wrong signal Nathan would go and all but drag Vin out of the bathroom, which wasn't something any of them wanted, carefully he answered "Nah… he blew on his harmonica for a bit…he did drop off for about an hour this morning before a nightmare woke him…Nate stop…he was a bit shaken, but it was partly my fault…he would have been fine, but when he woke I had the room too dark…he couldn't see….as soon as I turned on the light he was fine…even spoke to me a bit about it…"

The understatement about the harmonica was probably only matched by his exaggeration of his and Vin's conversation about the nightmare, but it did seem to satisfy Nathan and that was all Chris was aiming for. The medic nodded into his coffee mug, not really fooled by Chris's placating answer, but willing to let it go. His gaze drifted to the bathroom door again as he asked Chris, "So…how muchsleep did _you_ get?"

Chris snorted, leaned back further in his chair and rubbed the back of his neck, "About 40 minutes…" he answered truthfully, wondering if Nathan would put two and two together.

As he had expected, Nathan _did_ look up at this, "40 minutes….you didn't go back to sleep after Vin went out for a run?" Chris didn't even bother trying to guess how Nathan had deduced Vin 's morning whereabouts, and instead chose to answer the medics question, "Tried…..didn't do me any good….I got up 20 minutes later, put the coffee on and waited for the sun"

Like Chris, Nathan knew that Vin, although an early riser, rarely ventured outside before first light, having once heard the tracker explain it as, having no 'wish to go traipsn' 'bout in the dark…jis' trip over an' break me damn neck….and then have all you lot carry'n on like a pack a hyenas!' Although the excuse was just that, an excuse; the six other men knew it'd be a freezing day in hell before Vin Tanner lost his way because of the dark, the man seemed to almost have a sixth sense regarding his surroundings, even when he'd been blindfolded he'd not once stumbled for any other reason than exhaustion and hypothermia.

Vin Tanner only went out before light when something was bothering him and he hadn't yet worked out how to broach the topic or if he even wanted to.

Similarly, the men knew that trying to get an issue out of Vin Tanner before he was good and ready was like drawing teeth, and as such, they would probably just have to wait until he was ready…but that didn't mean that there wouldn't be a few hints and subtle nudges occasionally until he finally spilled, or whatever was the cause of the problem disappeared.

The quietness of the room suddenly became loud as the barely noticeable white noise of the shower running vanished; Vin had obviously turned the water off. Empting the last dregs of his cup Chris got to his feet and meandered into the small kitchen, rinsing his own cup and filling the horrendously strong one waiting on the bench. Hearing the door open behind him, Chris finished stirring in the multiple sugars and then turned back into the room, intent on delivering the mug into Vin's hands.

"Coffee…Why, you shouldn't have stud!" the rich voice met his as hands much bigger than he was expecting relieved him the mug.

The big man didn't heed Nathan's call of "Buck wait!" nor the soft "Not wise Mr Wilmington" mumbled into the dark cloth of the couch, intent on enjoying his pilfered coffee and not wanting to be diverted from his goal.

Buck took a long mouthful; the heady aroma rich in his nostrils, the strong caffeine slowly coating his tastebuds and then it hit him.

Strong.

Like liquid tar.

His face went a rather ghastly grey patched with rushes of blotchy red as he all but dropped the mug; hastily shoving the sloshing container back into Chris's grasping hands. Buck turned, hand suspended halfway to his mouth as he hovered for an instant, throat muscles contracting as he tried to force himself to swallow the revolting liquid so as to avoid the unbecoming spectacle of half throwing up. He made his decision a split instant later as his stomach rebelled against the idea of having _that_ inside it, and Buck lunged for the sink, opening his mouth and allowing the dark brown murk to splatter into the chrome basin, trying valiantly to stop anything else from following it out.

Spluttering and coughing harshly Buck swiped his mouth vigorously on the back of his arm in an attempt to diminish the nasty after taste; his hand roamed the bench in front of him as he sought the handle that would send water rushing out the faucet. He leaned in, attempting to guzzle water from the tap, wanting the taste _gone._ He suddenly became aware of the voices buzzing around him when a strong hand managed to reef him away from the bench and spin him to face back into the room, shoving him back against the counter securely as he tried to get back to the sink.

"Buck!...Buck!...You damn idiot…stop….the water from the taps' no good to drink! BUCK!" he finally heard Chris's insistent demand for his attention and stilled reluctantly, ignoring the lingering taste as best he could.

Which wasn't exactly very successfully.

Chris recognised that he had Bucks attention and he nodded to JD, indicating that the kid could hand Buck the glass he was holding; water from the fridge. The ladies' man eagerly accepted the cup and Chris let him go, watching as Buck turned back to the sink and repeatedly rinsed his mouth, until finally the water was gone. Buck turned back to JD with such a hangdog face that Chris nodded to the younger man to refill the glass again, and they watched as Buck repeated the process. Setting the glass on the sink drainer once it was emptied a second time the still grimacing victim turned around and leaned against the bench of his own accord, taste eradicated to the best of his ability.

Smiling sheepishly at them, Buck accepted the open bottle of coke from Nathan, and swigged form it slowly, letting its distinct taste finally destroy the last of the foul concoctions aftertaste. "Thanks Nathan…JD…blaaghh…gross…" he glared at the innocent white mug on the table as if it were the cause of all his woes.

Of the seven, only Ezra had never had the pleasure of tasting such filth…a fact that the Southerner was quite proud of; sighting his 'Intellectual observational supremacy' and 'common sense' as the reason behind his good fortune. It was also why, of the Seven, exempting Vin, it was only Ezra who rolled his eyes and sniggered at the consumer's misfortune.

As Josiah had once proclaimed, "One does not laugh in the face of death…or Vin's coffee"

Buck had sunk down into the spare chair at the table, and JD moved to lean against the wall behind him, prodding gently, "I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy…not even you, Buck…but you have to admit…you did kind of deserve it this time…"

Buck spluttered at the thought that _anyone_ could deserve _that, _and denied it vehemently, "What the hell could I have possibly done to des…"

JD just grinned at the big man…"Well…you were in the process of stealing what you thought was Chris's coffee… that it was Vin's instead…well that's just Karma"

Nathan cackled at the sight of young JD telling Buck off… strangely the sight wasn't all that unusual.

And Buck really had been asking for it.

Buck looked aghast at JD for a moment as if unsure how to argue before he suddenly grinned and slumped at the table, "Fair enough. I suppose when you put it like that….besides I could have suffered a worse fate…."

At Chris's credulous look and JD's snort Buck elaborated, "Junior could have walked in on me drinking his swill…"

JD paled and even Chris shivered a bit…

"I heard that Bucklin! Don't anybody be drinking my coffee…You protec' that cup Larabee!" came a muffled voice from the bathroom, a clatter and a bang and then the door was thrown open and Vin stood in the door way, hair mostly dry, curling slightly at the ends, one arm properly through the green shirt, the other tangled against his chest, a wide look of distrust on his expressive face.

Vin looked at the three at the table, JD behind them against the wall, and the small white mug on the table and breathed a sigh of relief, pulling his left arm into the sweater properly and straightening the material, running his fingers through his hair to pull it from the t-shirts collar.

Nodding once he stepped from the bathroom, gaze automatically sweeping from the windows to the door, scoping the room instinctively, his eyes found, labelled and catalogued each object with ultrafast recognition, dismissing each detail as a threat. His blue eyes lighted from the dark TV, down to the leather backpack leaning against the cream wall and then he shifted his gaze over the couch and adjacent chair, moving towards the bedroom.

Then as if hit by a spell he suddenly froze, his body did the ultimate double take, his whole figure snapping back to what he had just seen, registering something that was blaring THREAT in huge red letters.

A look of wild eyed terror passing across his face, his hands coming up protectively as he dropped to the ground, all but whimpering in desperate fear "_Get way….stay back…_", scrambling backwards in an awkward crab like movement, he slammed the bathroom door shut, closing himself away from the rest of his frantic team.

Nathan's panicked 'Vin!' was thrown into the air as his chair was roughly shoved back in his hurry to get across the room. Buck was in a tangle with JD, each trying to move towards their fallen friend. Chris breath hitched softly as he froze, much as Vin had done, although for a different reason.

Ezra beat them all to the door, either being much closer, or much faster.

Not bothering to knock, the Southerner shoved at the door, scrambling to turn the handle in tandem, hoping that Vin hadn't thought to lock it in his panicked frenzy to get away from whatever he had reacted too. Ezra, consumed with worry and concern finally managed to heave the door open, glad that Vin wasn't directly behind it. His shrewd green gaze swept into the bathroom, taking in the situation and processing what he needed to do first.

The Texan shook his head wildly, blue eyes wide on the intruder, scrabbling backwards until he was stopped by the sink, Vin curled into a tight ball, arms wrapped around himself in the foetal position, a gurgling choke escaped his pinched lips as he hid his face against his knees, his body beginning to shake in a series of fine tremors.

Ezra reached out a hand slowly, unsure what had spooked Vin, but knowing that Vin Tanner in a cornered, anxious state could easily cause serious bodily harm if approached in the wrong manner. Murmuring softly, more sounds than words, he gently grasped a slim shoulder tightening his grip to a comfortingly firm grasp when Vin didn't react, badly or otherwise. Using a show of surprising upper body strength Ezra pulled Vin from his curled position, propping the younger man against the open shower door, worried when the tremors became more pronounced.

Vin suddenly broke out in a wild windmill of arms, shoving Ezra's hands away from him all but shouting, "Get him away! "

An instant later the Southerner was back on his feet, white face slowly highlighted by splashes of red across high cheekbones, eyes steely as he watched unconcernedly as Vin convulsed at his feet. Ezra moved to sit back on the couch, his refined look now slightly rumpled from both his mad dash across the room, as well as having been half planted in the couch for the past half hour.

Not bothering to look back at the Texan, Ezra breathed, "_That…_Mr Tanner_…_was _beyond_ contemptible_….._impeccable execution though_…"_ Ezra slumped back into the couch, once again pulling himself into a ball to fit.

Nathan was leaning against the bathroom door, gaze going from Ezra's now wholly unconcerned body language back to Vin with worried brown eyes, filled with confusion, "Vin…" he called softly to the still shuddering yet silent man, "What's wrong?"

Vin's shudders stopped for a second and then continued with even more force as he looked up beseechingly at Nathan with innocent blue eyes, gasping out, "Nate…keep him away Nate…he's so _germy!..._I ain't gonna let Ez kill me with 'is stupid cold! You gotta keep him away!"

It only took another minute of Vin's continued shuddering, yet silent laughter, the wide grin on his upturned face and Ezra's disgruntled snort from the other side of the room to clue Nathan into the fact that he'd been had, and had good, by the unmitigated king of practical jokes.

Ezra's opinion of the matter was clear, his disgusted body language showing his utter contempt for the insensitive joke, however no one could see the smile of unholy glee on his face, pressed as it was into the fabric.

Chris's sharp bark of laughter from the table cut through the thick air, and one look at the blond showed that at least one of them had been aware of the joke from near the beginning. There had been an instant, just a single second that had almost stopped Chris's heart, but he had then immediately noticed what was truly happening, after all, Vin didn't cower when in fear, he struck first; despite the fear.

Buck and JD, never having managed to untangle themselves in their haste sat in a mess of limbs on the floor near the table. JD's shirt had somehow, defying reason, gotten caught on one of the chair legs, and Buck had somehow ended up half on the chair, holding in down, yet half under JD. The physics of the matter were bamboozling, but suffice to say, nobody but JD and Buck could manage such a feat with such finesse. Now though, having heard the fits of laughter both men calmed enough to untangle themselves. JD laughing in appreciation of a good joke, and Buck laughing in appreciation of Vin's ever increasing self-confidence.

The only one of the group not appearing to (or at least secretly) appreciate the joke was the now silent medic, towering over the still slumped tracker. Nathan's concern had become shock and surprise, quickly morphing into fear inspired anger, "Vin Tanner! That wasn't funny…Jesus, we thought you were really hurt! You goddamn idiot fool!" Nathan was all but spitting with held back anger, and Vin sobered quickly, wondering if he'd pushed it too far, too soon…

After all, Nathan had been the one to pull him through the last bought of near death, only a few months ago… '_of all the stupid…'_

Vin was dragged from thoughts that were slowly becoming more self-incriminating when Nathan seemed to lose himself to his anger and reached down, dragging the unresisting Vin to his feet, the medics grip rough, but not damaging.

Ignoring Bucks sudden movement and Chris's abortive growl of "Nathan!" the medic delivered a small shake and the accompanying snarl of, "You think it was _funny_ to scare me half to death! " his brown eyes, now darker than their usual kind chocolate narrowed and he suddenly lunged forward, bodily backing the much smaller man into the open shower cubicle.

JD's panicked shout of "It was a joke Nathan!" rang in his ears, but the medic ignored him, as well as the approaching storm that was Buck Wilmington in protective mode. Knowing he had only a few second left before Buck managed to drag him away, Nathan hissed, "If you're gonna dish it…you'd best be able to take it!" and raised his hand…

Vin flinched violently, yelping as his hands came up to protect his head as he was suddenly saturated by the steady stream of freezing water Nathan sprayed from the detachable shower head.

Nathan flicked the water off, let the shower head fall and backed out of the bathroom, past a shocked Buck and unusually quiet JD. In the shower cubicle one incredibly dangerous and extremely capable ATF sniper...looking all the world like a bedraggled, wet, pathetic kitten; albeit a rather stroppy kitten.

In the ensuing silence Vin didn't move, levelling a glare at Nathan through wet eyelashes, arms crossed petulantly. Nathan had re-seated himself besides their silent leader picking up and sipping from his only slightly cooler coffee as if he had not just saturated a very unwilling co-worker. Ezra had slowly rolled over, sitting up to look towards the bathroom, having obviously worked out that Nathan spent far too much time patching them up to want to hurt them…especially Vin… but he hadn't exactly expected the man to soak Vin through either…after all that was like playing with fire…the Texan hated getting his hair wet, because it took so long to dry.

JD was staring between the others in the room, wondering exactly what was going to happen next and wondering if he should perhaps fetch Josiah to deliver Nathan's last rights. Chris was still, silent, but the twinkling in his eyes was reminiscent of days long ago, yet it had been happening again of late. Buck was standing only a few feet from the bathroom, having been about to pull the apparently crazy Nathan off Vin, and now stared at the forlorn image the younger man made. No one moved for a moment, and then Buck stepped into the bathroom, reached for the white towel hanging on the hook and dropped it onto Vin's head, hiding the blue lasers as he said , "Junior…you're dripping…best dry your hair…Nate'll have a coronary if ya get a cold…"

And just like that any and all tension leaked from the air like a punctured tyre, Vin slumped against the bathroom wall growling good naturedly as he began the process of towelling away at his hair for the second time that morning, his nod to Nathan was soft blue with understanding, showing that he accepted the well-deserved pay back.

Nathan grinned into his coffee, glad that his own joke hadn't backfired like Vin had thought his had. Not once through Nathan's berating or 'attack' had Vin shown any fear of him, and if showing no fear when a friend twice your size with Nathans sort of background came at you didn't show trust, Nathan didn't know what did.

He remembered the Vin who had first joined their team, just over three years ago; shy, quiet, distrustful, completely independent and completely without self-value. Of course he was still almost exactly the same now…but _almost _was the key word.

Finishing his coffee Nathan said, "If I had a coronary as often as Buck predicted I'd be long dead….besides…if you _do _get a cold we'll just have to blame the fact that you were out jogging in the freezing cold before daybreak…," he turned to glare at Chris, "_without a shirt_" turning back to Vin's wide eyed innocence he finished, "_won't we_?…"

Vin ducked back under the towel, drying vigorously.

That's when Josiah chose to walk in.

Knowing that they had an 8:30 start in the dining hall the seven men made the 5 minute trek across the resort. Vin fingering his still damp hair in dismay, knowing that if he let it dry naturally in the air, by afternoon he'd have a halo of baby soft frizz instead of his usual wavy tangle. Chris grinned at Vin's behaviour, shaking his head as he clicked his fingers at Nathan and tilted his head towards Vin expectantly. Sighing, Nathan dug in his pockets before producing a black elastic band, which Vin accepted gracefully, using it to tie his hair at the nape of his neck. He'd still have a mess of feather soft hair, but it wouldn't be _as bad_ if it was pulled back.

Josiah was laughing and asking the necessary questions as he indulged JD's rather enthusiastic telling of the mornings adventure, with Bucks rather _unhelpful_ input. Ezra popped another throat lozenge, avoiding Nathan's gaze as he stifled a cough… '_Why did it have to be just a mildly bothersome cold…why not something slightly more debilitating that I could have utilised to have us all returned home post-haste…back to my feather mattress and silk sheets…in my own home…I'd even settle for Mr Larabee's ranch under Mr Jackson's watchful eye.'_

Ezra broke out of his musings as they entered the dining hall, strangely Miles Weston wasn't there and nor did he show for their morning repast. The seven men ate the provided meals with gusto, well, Ezra picked at his toast and fruit, the bacon and eggs not doing much for his queasy stomach, before, on the chef's instruction's the men headed outside, to the location they had used earlier in the week.

Miles watched as they approached the clearing under the tree with interest; it was plain to see that something had occurred that morning, for all seven men, including the still unwell Ezra Standish and the not surprisingly withdrawn Vin Tanner all looked more relaxed and good-humoured than Miles had yet seen.

What he wouldn't give to have observed their interactions last night and this morning, but Miles had long ago decided that there were some lengths he just wasn't willing to go to, some lines he would not cross for the sake of his career, and one of those limitation he had set himself was the use of cameras and bugs in his evaluations.

The invasion of privacy far outweighed any personal gain.

So he would just have to be satisfied with what he could garner in his 'sessions' and when the team were in an obviously public setting.

As they drew closer Miles moved from where he'd been leaning against the tree, calling "Good morning guys…I hope everyone enjoyed breakfast?" he received nods and polite agreement from most of the team and Miles continued, "Okay…why don't you all take a seat…and we'll get stuck into today's activities."

As they sat, Miles did a little bit closer reconnaissance, running his gaze; quite obviously, wanting the men to be aware and not overly discomforted by any ill performed subtlety on his behalf.

Chris looked at ease as he ever did, but Miles once again noticed the tension coiling under the dark clothed shoulders, he figured that the 'ever -ready' state and constant protective drive was something that this man couldn't just 'turn off' when he was in familiar territory. Miles also knew that it was almost dormant at the moment and completely on a subconscious level, indicating what Miles thought was a fairly relaxed state of being for Larabee. Miles had been on the receiving end of this very dangerous man's ire once before and he had no wish to see it in full force.

Nathan Jackson, he noticed, kept catching Vin's eye and then both would break off, grinning at some joint idea. Miles had a feeling that these two were involved in the efforts that had relaxed the group. The man's 'medic' side was as alert as always, already Miles had seen his kind gaze sweep the still pale Ezra Standish several times after the younger man had broken out into a series of muffled coughs. The dark man hadn't said anything; he'd just pinned his expectant gaze on Ezra and waited. After several minutes of squirming under the reproachful look the southerner had popped a soother from its blister pack and settled with one shoulder carefully propping him up against the tree.

Miles could tell that Ezra was still not feeling well, if the man's pallor and his coughing hadn't given it away, the barely concealed, yet relatively mild concern that the other six men displayed would have. Despite the obvious illness the southerner seemed quite content as he sat on the ground, apart from the requisite whining about the uncouth state of seating he seemed rather placid. Miles had already deduced Ezra Standish craved the approval and appreciation of the others more than anything, it was the same for Vin Tanner, but that was expressed in a completely different manner. Ezra needed them to respect him, but he couldn't show that he needed it. Thankfully, it seemed that as far as his team where concerned Chris Larabee had a masters in psychiatry and had already nodded his approval of Ezra's deigning to be seated on the ground with minimal fuss. The younger man turned up his nose at Chris's seemingly patronising behaviour but…it was all in the eyes, and Ezra's green eyes were anything but offended.

Josiah, obviously catching the byplay between Nathan and Ezra turned his eyes to the sky and offered a silent prayer of what Miles predicted was possibly thanks that this particular team had been gifted a medic with the patience of a saint. The biggest man on the team, perhaps with some of the worst demons and yet Miles knew that the ex-preacher was a kind, wise soul. Miles saw a man willing to try and understand, to let people be what people chose to be; a rare commodity, especially in one of the older generation. Miles was personally glad that Josiah was in this group, glad for his tempering nature and gentle wisdom to offset the quicksilver brilliance of many of the younger men. As he watched Josiah grabbed JD's shoulder, using his immense strength to slow the still jabbering boys wild decent to the ground when Buck had suddenly swept his feet from beneath him.

He was useful for that as well Miles mused as he turned his attention to the now shouting youngest. JD was attempting to throttle Buck, yelling obscenities and threats as he grabbed for the bigger man. Alternately he was thanking and pushing at Josiah's grip which now pinned him to the ground. Miles knew that of the seven JD was the most boisterous, a tell of the youth that still showed in the young mans character. JD hadn't managed to escape Josiah's restraint yet and was getting less amused and more angry with hurt the harder Buck laughed, something that Josiah seemed to be realising, for in that moment Josiah swept the feet out from beneath Buck and the man crashed down hard beside them, going silent as the wind was knocked out of him. Soon though his bellowing laughter rang out again as he also began to attempt to escape the ham fist that belonged to Josiah.

Miles saw the look that crossed JD face as he watched Buck. The older man was in the same predicament he was, and instead of getting upset he just accepted it in the manner it was intended; as harmless fun. Miles recognised the look of recognition and learning as JD gazed at Buck before he also began to laugh, trying to escape Josiah's height dominant hold. Miles knew and expected the look of learning on JD's face, however, what he _hadn't _beenexpecting was the cognizant look that passed Bucks handsome face. Miles had assumed, as most did, that Buck was fairly self-expressive as well as self-absorbed, the fact that he was knowingly influencing JD was something he hadn't considered. That the older man was aware of how much JD looked up to him and was actively modelling behaviour that was appropriate for him to learn from screamed of something deeper within Buck Wilmington than Miles had expected. Miles had already come to the conclusion that JD looked up to all of the men, and it was apparent that he _worshipped_ Buck…now though it was also possible that Buck was taking advantage of this adoration in a completely suitable and very effective way.

Miles figured he'd have to keep an eye on that relationship, to confirm his suspicions.

Any hope of confirming them with the current activity was completely dashed when Vin wandered between the three, grinning madly as he used his left hand to free JD and a twist of his hip and a sudden sharp move had Josiah face down where Buck had been and the ladies' man on his knees besides him. Despite Buck's huffing laugh and muttered '_Damn Junior_!' as he helped Josiah back into a sitting position, any retaliation became futile as Vin was already on the other side of the group.

Ezra was jostled, but not roughly as Vin dropped down beside him, as comfortable outdoors as Ezra was not. Shoulder to shoulder they leaned against the tree, as different in appearance as chalk to cheese. Admittedly the two were similar in height and Ezra's compact build with Vin's slimness made it increasingly difficult to gauge correct height, however, back to back Ezra actually stood slightly shorter than the lithe Texan. In almost every other physical way the two were different, if not polar opposites. Ezra's short, dark auburn curls and green eyes, to Vin's much longer, tawny tangle and blue eyes. Ezra's pale, unblemished porcelain skin carefully maintained and cared for, whereas Vin's Ivory tan was made by nature, marked by nature and toughened by nature. Even the two's taste in clothing and lifestyle were in direct opposition, one finding appeal in the comforts of man-made society and the upper crust of humanity while the other lived as closely as he could with the land and still survive in modern society.

Yet for all their differences, two men couldn't be more similar. They'd both been raised hard, although by different methods, both had lacked any family or true parental love, each had experienced things that no man should know, heartache, betrayal, despair. And both had turned out the better for it.

Miles had seen it time and time again; people begot what they were dealt, abuse led to abuse, each generation continued the cycle, and yet for all their hardness, their surface coarseness and hostile reactions never had Miles seen two _gentler, kinder _souls.

Sure Ezra was a con man, but not at heart…his mother's upbringing had taught him not to expect anything for free and that if you wanted it, you could have it…but only if you could take it.

Vin, on the same hand, but a different finger, had grown believing that nothing was free, he didn't deserve anything, if you wanted it didn't matter because you weren't ever going to get it…and if you took it, they'd take it _and everything else_ right back.

Miles would not hesitate to say that sometime in the past three years, the only people that these two men totally and complexly trusted had gone from being only themselves, to include the six others in the room, and even that was still an uphill battle sometimes. Miles anticipated that the activities they would tangle with today and part of tomorrow would help unravel the reason and rational motivating such uncharacteristic trust.

Seeing that the shuffling, shoving and shifting had eased and the men appeared to be settled and were looking to him with, if not masked enthusiasm, than at least not outright detestation, Miles clapped his hands once and then swung them behind him, stretching until his shoulders popped as he began to speak, "Over the past few days we have been focusing mainly on how you guys interact, with direct correlation to your communication skills and personal attention to knowledge of each other…today we are moving onto activities and topics that should assist in the observation of trust." Miles saw Vin's eyes lift from his lap, Chris's gaze flicker and Ezra swallowed tightly, although he could have been supressing a cough…Miles wondered if the fact that the men _knew_ and acknowledged their trust issues was in any way responsible for the teams dynamics?

He continued, choosing his words carefully, "Now, I'm assuming that all seven of you have attended team building seminars and the like before, which means you have no doubt heard what I'm about to say, however I feel it bears reiterating...trust forms the foundation and basis of every decision within a team and is, without a doubt the most important aspect of any teams success…it's hard to define, hard to develop and harder still to accurately evaluate…so, bear with me with the next series of activities I ask of you because I promise they all have a purpose… "

Miles knew the statistics of team trust, he knew how it did or did not form and he knew what this meant for the corporation or goal the team was designed for. Employees and friends often 'said' that they trusted each other, but the idea of trust and the act of trust were always two very different monsters. Miles had asked the question many times, 'Do you trust your fellow team members?' and had always invariably received "Yes" for an answer. However, Miles knew to dig a little deeper and he nearly always discovered that this trust level was conditional.

'Yes, they trust one another to behaviour generally within the bounds of acceptable social behaviour. 'Yes, they trust each other not to overtly put individual interests above the needs of the team' However a high performance team, such as those he evaluated, needed to show or develop a higher, or perhaps deeper level of trust; innate and complete. A trust that cannot be broken, despite the age old saying "Trust takes a long time to build up, but can be destroyed in an instant."

And that trust was only learnt by repeatedly taking personal risk and experiencing positive outcomes.

Tomorrow he would be very interested to _hear_ their own opinions of the team and the trust that they shared, but for today Miles wanted to garner an uninhibited, uninfluenced complete subconscious display of trust…the kind that was physically displayed.

"Before we begin I need to make it 100% clear that everything I'm asking you to do today is completely at your own discretion...all of today's activities include a small chance of injury, and although that chance is minimal, I have no issue if anyone does not want to participate…" Miles _ did _ have an issue; if any one of them refused to join in, as had happened in the past, it would skew his results unimaginably…Miles also truly believed that this group wouldn't be in any danger during the activities and was extremely unlikely to be hurt, however, as they said; rules were rules.

Thankfully, and as Miles had expected none of the seven seemed inclined to back out just yet, although he did catch several glances towards Chris for confirmation. Miles jumped into his explanation of the first activity, "If you'll follow me….todays activities are all quite physical in nature, and we usually use the pre-set course…which we are heading towards now," Miles watched as the seven got to their feet, hands held out for support and unwanted tugs to feet, waiting until they were trekking across the field towards the shining lakes in the not so far distance before continuing, "Over the past several years I've been situated in the valley, we have amassed, for want of better word, _ an obstacle course, _which you will utilise in the first activity"

The eight men rounded a corner of the lake, half shaded by a dense ring of trees and several, including Miles shivered at the sudden loss of sun, glad for its return as they continued out of the darkened patch into a sunny clearing that was mostly concealed from the rest of the resort…by the thick trees on two sides and a large shiny, smooth surfaced boundary wall on the other side, about 4 meters high and 15 meters wide, starting about two meters out from the trees and a metre from the lakes bank. 

Between the eight men and the wall, a good 50 meters of grassy green stretched peppered here and there by elements of Miles '_obstacle course_'. While not an obstacle course in the traditional sense of the word; there were no monkey bars, rope swings or tire paths, it was clear that the assortment of object were not just a natural accumulation of junk, despite looking rather like a metal workers scrap heap.

Pieces of metal sheeting, metal pipes of varying size and length, huge steel doors, at least one trash bin, and several mechanical parts were welded, bolted, soldered, smashed, and glued together to make odd shaped piles of varying size., Care had obviously been taken to render all sharp corners and edges smooth, and small rubber pipes had been fitted where deemed necessary for safety purposes. Strangely; corners, jutting pieces, rounded edges and many other odd places also seemed to have received a thick recent coating of a strange purple powder or chalk like substance.

About 30 odd shaped, purple dotted piles stood between the men and the wall, spread across the grassy clearing, leaving sparse area to pass between them in some places and gaps of several meters in others. There was no clear path to the other side, and several different routes could be utilised but at some point, no matter which 'path' one took if trying to cross, they would inevitably find a difficult section, requiring ducking beneath an extended metal pole from one object pile while simultaneously having to step over a wide sheet that jutted out from another or a pole barring the way completely, requiring crawling under.

Seeing several knowing looks, a few grimaces and a couple of anticipatory grins, Miles finished his explanation, "Yes…you are required to navigate your way to the other side of the field without touching the scrap piles…when you get to the other side, any '_accidental mishaps' _ will be evidenced by purple chalk stains on your skin and clothing…" Miles interrupted his own explanation at Ezra's undignified protest to reassure the southerner, "_It is water-soluble Mr Standish; have no fear" _before continuing, ignoring several sniggers,"I call the game 'Mine-field'…and obviously the piles are the mines…so don't touch them…"

Several sets of eyes were already marking paths and routes within the scrap yard when Miles tutted, adding, "Now now…it won't be _that_ easy…I'm going to pair you up…and one of you will be crossing blindfolded while the other navigates for him…" Several groans echoed and Miles immediately noticed that Vin's head shot back from where he'd been studying a particularly tricky section of the field, blue eyes wide with several emotions… Miles was strangely relieved to see that the most prevalent was exasperated disbelief, as if Vin couldn't believe that Miles had said the 'B' word in the presence of Chris Larabee again.

Miles was almost laughing to himself when he caught said man's green eyes and immediately added, "I'm sorry Vin…it's the only way the activity works….but you can navigate… no blindfold….okay" Vin nodded his easy acceptance and Miles sighed, wondering if he'd ever get used to that hard green stare.

Miles shook his head and turned back to his thoughts, and began to pair the seven up, taking into account the fact that there were an odd number of participants. He could have just randomly put the men into two's, but wanted to use the opportunity to observe some interactions that he wouldn't normally see. It had become obvious to him over the past few days that while the seven were a very tight nit group and cared for one another equally, there were several, different relationships that kept coming through clearer…Vin and Chris seemed to have a very deep rooted bond that made understanding their relationship both harder and easier, because of the amount of time and interactions they engaged in. The same could be said for Vin and Ezra, although in a different way, and to a lesser, simpler extent JD and Buck as well as Josiah and Nathan.

Miles hoped to use this and the next few activities to sight some interactions between other combinations within the group.

Looking at the seven, Miles thought through the various combinations he could choose and why…then ditched that idea; he'd be here all day with the number of reason he had for wanting to see how specific pairs reacted. Instead he decided to focus on one member at a time.

He chose Chris Larabee first, ultimately because he was the leader of the group and looking at the other six, came to his decision fairly easily, "Chris…you're going through the field and your navigator will be JD" The one with the most authority relying on the instructions of the member with the least.

"Because there is an odd number the next group will be doing something a little different…there will be two navigators and at each obstacle they will each give instructions, however one set of instructions will always be wrong...but it will not always be given by the same navigator….it will be up to…Ezra, to decide whether Buck or Nathan are telling the truth with any given instruction" Miles waited to see nods of understanding from all three men before turning to the last pair.

"Vin…you'll navigate for Josiah" Miles had already seen the older man eyeing the course with a face of distaste, obviously thinking of his intimidating size and age in comparison to some of the small gaps in the course, but Miles knew from firsthand experience, that with careful consideration and care any person, of any size could safely traverse the field…but could they do it blindfolded at the hands of another person?

Miles wandered over to the nearest pile of metal and opened the back of an old car frame nestled within it, pulling a wooden box from the strange storage area, noting the first aid kit and SAT. phone in its rightful place as he did so…better safe than sorry. He turned to the team, who had split into their groups and handed out the three blindfolds to their respective recipients.

"Okay… because of safety regulations and my observational techniques…we'll go one team at a time… overall goal…get to the other side with no purple spots on _either _of you…that's right…the navigator…or navigators… have to cross as well….everyone understand?" he received several nods, although some were already scoping out the field. Miles turned to the first pair and said, "Okay…JD and Chris you guys are up first…blindfold on…. And when you're ready…"

Miles was interested in observing all three teams, for varying reasons; the overall level of interaction required to successfully navigate the course would give him all manner of insights into the different relationship dynamics. Over the past three years that he'd been running the course he'd seen many varying levels of success, from those who had aced the challenge to pairs who had ended up more purple than not. It was possible to complete the course without touching any of the purple chalk, and it did happen semi-regularly; most of these successes had occurred where both members of the pair had a high level of trust and dedication although he had on occasion seen unwavering authority and complete obedience respectively allow teams to complete the exercise.

He had no doubt that the level of trust that existed within this group would put many previous teams to shame, and he was thoroughly enjoying having this opportunity to observe this, but it was the use and recognition of authority that Miles was focussing on in the first pair, that of Chris and JD.

Not just authority in its natural state though, as Miles was well aware that Chris's very state of being punched a hell of a lot of respect into any dynamic…what he wanted to evaluate was how these two handled the almost complete reversal of authority…JD Dunne; youngest, least dangerous (although Miles thought that was relative) given complete influence over the powerhouse that was Chris Larabee.

Chris placed the blindfold over his eyes, tying the soft black material in a firm knot at the back of his head, unable to stifle the acute feeling of unease, although none of it showed on his stoic face. Blinded now, for the black material truly did its job, Chris was stunned by the sudden loss of equilibrium and balance...he didn't fall or stumble, but felt it none the less. Star bursts of technicolour against his dark eyelids were the only remnant of the sunny world he was, for all intents and purposes, still a part of; although he felt engulfed by the inky darkness.

As uneasy, as out of joint and isolated as he felt, Chris was not afraid; he knew without a doubt that he was not alone…hell…he could hear JD's stifled giggles to his left. Although he could not see, and had lost any true, completely accurate bearing on his surroundings the moment he lost his sight…Chris still had the one thing that mattered most; trust.

And with this trust came a sense of complete safety and security. He may be blind at the moment, but as far as he was concerned, he still had six pairs of eyes. However, without the knowledge that with one strong tug his sight would be restored, and the understanding that he wasn't alone, (and by alone he meant bereft of a certain company he usually kept) in a much more dire situation, this sudden overwhelming expanse of _nothingness_ could well have been one of the most terrifying experiences of his life.

One thought he did not want to touch, _never wanted to touch, _was shoved into the little box at the back of his mind; forced in among the screams of a terrified and confused little boy and the tears of a wife and mother in unimaginable pain… _Alone, trapped in impenetrable darkness, in a situation beyond dangerous…terrified blue eye, invisible behind black tape._

Chris hastily slammed the lid closed on the small memory box…throwing his mind forward into the present, turning to where, by good approximation (and giggling) JD should be and said, "Well Kid…let's show 'em how it's done…."

JD grinned, speaking a mile a minute as always, his cheerful demeanour dispelling the low level of tension that permeated the air as he gestured wildly "Okay Chris…just go straight ahead…I'll tell you when to stop, this is just like a game I used to play when I was young" several snorts had JD grinning unabashed as he amended his sentence, "fine…younger…I was awesome at it…won almost every time…admittedly there wasn't any purple chalk …and most of the junk we used as obstacles was pretty simple, like brooms and trash cans and stuff...and Oh Crap, CHRIS STOP!"

Chris instantly froze as JD darted forwards, sliding to a stop besides the statuesque Larabee, gazing in dismayed disbelief at the metal pipe jutting out from the first pile of scrap metal, a heavy coating of purple chalk covered its entire extended surface and the height exactly matched the purple band that spread across Chris's waist…from where he'd walked into it.

JD stared flabbergasted at the purple mess, unable to believe he'd stuffed them up so soon, he looked up at Chris's face warily, as if expecting a rebuke for his lack of attention, which he knew he full well deserved…his eyes dropped to his feet in shame as he whispered "Oh god…I'm so sorry Chris…I wasn't watching…too busy running my mouth and now I've stuffed us up…." JD trailed off as he realised the extent of his mishap; he'd made Chris look like fool in front of Miles and Miles was writing back to Chris's boss and if Chris looked l…

JD snapped out of his thoughts when he felt a hand settle on his shoulder firmly, before it was accompanied by Chris's voice, "JD…its fine…it's just a game…let's keep going…" he dropped his hand when he felt JD nod in agreement and waited for his youngest to begin his instructions again.

JD looked at the pole extended out in front of Chris and said, "If you bend double…a little lower…okay…forward…." Chris moved beneath the pole on JD's orders and past the next two obstacles with no problem, but even sightless he could see that JD was still feeling guilty about his mishap.

Sighing to himself, Chris again had to direct his anger away from Miles…it really wasn't the doctors fault that his men had certain sensitivities…and JD's just happened to be an inability to believe he was good enough to meet Chris's expectations, despite Chris's own firm conformation that he had already done that and much more.

Another straight stretch and JD gave him instructions to take several steps to his left before they started forwards again. Chris was unconcerned about the course and the activity, he really didn't care if he came out the other side as purple as he was usually black…and he didn't think the rest of the team would care either…but JD's method of giving instructions and leading him across the field was bothering him.

Quiet and serious instructions, 'go forward…go left…crawl under…lower…step higher…watch your left…' guided him carefully as he made his way across the fields, and if it had been Vin or Nathan Chris wouldn't have been troubled at all. But this was JD…JD who was loud and boisterous and animated…not reserved and withdrawn.

Guessing that they'd already gone about twenty meters and passed at least three more obstacles by the amount of bending and twisting he'd done, Chris waited for JD to relax and settle into the activity, hoping it was just nerves that was causing the boys complete reversal of character. However after several more minutes of 'stop…step up…turn sideways…stop…forwards' There had been several close calls, avoided only by JD's tensely shouted 'Stop', Chris knew that JD was taking the activity much more seriously than he should be, and Chris would bet that they younger man was still mortified about the purple stain that stretched across his waist.

As they reached the next obstacle, which Chris determined by JD's 'stop', he heard the soft murmuring from behind him, and became aware that he wasn't the only one who found JD's behaviour disturbing. Indeed, Bucks not so quiet "_…could talk the hind leg off a donkey…attention…good..."_ Made it clear to JD as well, and the boy became even more precise and focused. Sighing internally at Buck's loud voice, but willing to bet that the comment hadn't been intended as an insult but as a half heard concerned query, Chris spoke as he shimmied out from under what he assumed was a purple covered sheet two feet off the ground, and asked as he stood "So JD…you said '_we used to play this game_'…who's we?"

The sound of JD also sliding under the metal sheet stopped for an instant, and Chris knew that the boy was looking up at him, confused at his sudden want to chat, and so he added, "What? I have to crawl through this purple infested scrap heap with you as my eyes…the least you can do is entertain me…" a second later heard JD snort and then the tell-tale noises as he continued under the obstacle.

JD answered, "Luke, Georgia and Mason…friends from the group home…"

The men knew that JD had spent a number of months in a group home at about the age of 11; his mother had fallen ill and had been declared unfit. As far as group homes went, JD had gotten one of the good ones, both the house parents had been lovely kind souls who really did want to help the children and although they had lacked funds, as all places like that did, he had been well cared for. It had shocked the men a little, and angered them when they had found out that JD had been a child of the state. Vin particularly, who didn't have good memories of group and foster homes, had been really upset, until JD had assured him that although they weren't his mom and he had missed her terribly, it really hadn't been a bad experience. His mother had gotten well again and he'd been returned to her, where he had happily stayed until she had relapsed when he was 19 and passed on when he was 20. JD had flown under the radar for the two months until his 21st birthday, and the system hadn't been concerned with corralling one who would fly the coop so soon anyway.

JD continued on, explaining "Georgia was really tiny... she was the only one who ever beat me …I was really good though… probably because I was even smaller…I don't seem to be much good at navigating though…" Chris was easily able to picture a little boy with a dark mop of hair and huge blue eyes, and answered, "You're doing just fine JD…in fact…better than fine…I bet that poor Ez doesn't make it out anything less than purple…what with Nate and Buck fighting over him, and Josiah, being built the way he is…won't find these tight fits very easy…you got lucky…me with my whip-lean physique and supple flexibility…. "

It was softly spoken, but Chris and JD caught the words from behind them, '_I think ya mean's scrawny-assed and old… '_

JD was giggling madly at Chris's description, and Vin's interference, and Chris himself grinned in satisfaction as he followed JD's next instruction, "Go forward another two steps or so… and then duck. "Oh you're right… Imagine trying to get Josiah or Buck under that sheet…it'd be impossible…I so don't envy Vin right now…step up and then keep going…Josiah's gonna be not just purple, but black and blue as well…"

Following the instructions Chris allowed the now happy and exuberant JD to guide him through the course, and noted that there wasn't even one more close call, JD was actually not bad once he relaxed. Chris guesstimated that they had to be nearing the edge of the field, and could tell he was right by the building excitement in JD's voice until he heard a soft dismayed "Oh…" from his navigator.

Wondering at the problem Chris asked, "What's wrong…are we finished?"

He heard JD sigh before he answered, "Almost…there's one more obstacle…but Chris…I don't think we can do it…it's impossible…"

Chris had to laugh at the totally dejected sound JD made, and he all but felt the glare the boy shot at him. Holding his hands up in surrender Chris said, "Sorry…sorry…it's just that you sound so…sorry…okay…describe this impossible obstacle to me…"

JD all but growled, but Chris could hear the grin in his voice as he answered, "Well…there is two piles, one on your left and one on your right…they're about half a meter apart. There's a metal sheet that I think…yes…its actually buried in the ground and it comes up past your hips…it's too high to jump, not safe to leap…oh…and there is a pole about half a meter above your head too, that goes all the way across as well….see, impossible."

What JD described actually did sound impossible, and Chris decided that it probably actually was impossible, put there specifically for this reason; just when you think you're finished…..

He tilted his head and thought for a minute, while JD waited patiently at his side and then Chris asked, "Okay JD…look back the way we came…how many obstacles have we got to go back through before we reach a path that won't lead us back here?"

JD stared back the way they had come, trying to determine what Chris meant, and then his eyes picked up on what Chris had sensed despite having no sight…he'd led them down the easiest path and…and it lead straight to a trap…looking back, JD followed the options with his yes…three obstacles back and he saw an option to try a different obstacle rather than the one they had gone under…but following that new trail still lead them back here…It took him 10 minutes, but JD finally found an obstacle that would lead them on a completely different path, and shared the news with Chris…"It's about eight obstacles back…there's a fork. Well not a fork as such, but an option of just two obstacles…we took the easy one and every other path after that leads to here…sorry Chris."

Chris nodded, it was what he had been expecting, he said as much to JD, "It's okay JD...it was a very good trap…very extensive…Impossible to see until you've been through it…alright...which obstacles would we have to redo to get back to the fork…?"

JD gazed back across the field, able to see that the other were silently watching them, they were too far away to hear what he and Chris were saying, but the looks on their faces said that they also realised what had happened and that none of them had realised either. Feeling better about his mistake, JD looked at the obstacle s they would have to redo…"Well…the one we slid under on our backs…and the one you had to jump over…oh and the cork screw one that almost killed your 'old ass' as Vin said…and the one you said was unconstitutional to prisoner safety… there's a couple of others but they were pretty easy…"

JD trailed off as Chris again tilted his head in thought…they'd already spent over half an hour winding their way through the course… and then turning back to JD he spoke, "Okay navigator man…you got us here, now I'm making a call…" and with that Chris reached up above his head until; his hand found the pole stretched between the two piles and gripping it he pulled himself up until he was sitting on the metal sheet. He swung his legs over and said, "It's safe to jump down…no spikes or pits?"

JD stared at Chris seemingly giving up and before answering, "Uh…no you're good…" and Chris jumped down, saying as he stood at the other side of the course, looking back to JD…"Well come on…we both have to finish the course to finish the activity…"

JD jumped over, following Chris's own technique, although he didn't sit on the metal sheet, but crouched on it, rubber soled shoes gripping the protective rubber lip as he asked, "But why didn't we go back…?"

Chris reached a hand up for JD to use as a balance despite the kid being able to see and answered as JD followed his jump on the other side, "Well…we were already at the other side and my tired old ass didn't think it could go back through all those obstacles and who knew how many other, harder ones to get back here…I figured I'd get less purple this way anyway…."

JD nodded in understanding, and definite agreement, before adding almost as an afterthought, "Yeah…but your tired old ass is now purple…"

Sure enough, a line of bright purple chalk decorated the seat of Chris's pants, glaring at the stupid metal sheet that he had sat on; he brushed at his jeans, trying to pat away the colour.

"Ah Chris…your hands are purple too…." JD reminded him softly.

Miles had watched in fascination as the two men made their way across the field, he had wondered how they would cope with the reversal of authority, but it hadn't even appeared to register with the two men. In all other situations like this were Miles had reversed the polarity of a relationship, the men had inevitably fallen into fights and arguments or they had questioned and repeated every order and instruction until the other grew wildly aggravated. Chris hadn't even seemed to care that JD's authority was leading him about and JD didn't even appear coherent of the fact that Chris was his boss. It was unlike any other work place dynamic that Miles had ever seen.

And that's when it hit him, while he'd been looking for a relinquishing of authority and trust from boss to employee, he had almost missed the stable authority of familial trust. Chris trusted JD to trust that Chris would trust him…it was as convoluted as anything Miles had ever thought and made no sense whatsoever…except for the fact that it kind of did…he realised that he was going to have to throw out his psychiatry evaluation handbook with this team…he couldn't evaluate them under the levels of trust and authority of an employed team, with dynamics of colleague, boss, underling, rookie, outcast, newbie and any other work relate denominations. Instead he needed to rework the book…evaluation of familiar dynamics in a non-relative, work environment.

Through-out the exercise JD had no qualms about telling Chris what to do, just as Chris had no issues following the orders. It was an entire different level; and type of trust…and Miles knew that it dominated this team's successful career. 

The dynamics of this team…this family, was so unlike anything Miles had ever seen…and to someone who wanted to know everything about the human psyche, they were beyond magnificent.

Chris had ripped the blindfold off as he moved towards several conveniently placed boulders that lined the lakes edge, dragging JD along with him under one arm, he sunk back to lean against one of the rocks, legs crossed at the ankle and arms, bent at the elbow, supporting his weight. JD, with energy that belied his recent exertion sprung up beside him, using his moment to spin into a sitting position, legs dangling a good three inches of the ground.

Miles turned his attention back to the men at his side, waiting patiently as they laughed and mockingly applauded Chris and JD's effort. As they settled he began to speak, "Okay...you guys have got a bit of an added advantage...now that you've seen what to do...and what not to do...so, make the most of it... Ezra, Nathan and Buck, you're up next...Buck, Nathan...remember, one of you must always be lying..."

Ezra tied the blindfold on, carefully arranging it until the light was blotted out and only darkness remained. It was in all, a strange sensation; to have willingly cut himself off from one of his senses, and although certainly disconcerting, he wasn't frightened, as such.

It was strange then, how much he relaxed when he felt a heavy hand drop onto his shoulder, accompanied by Nathan's warm voice, "Ready Ezra?...we'll take it slow, if you start to cough, stop moving...last thing we need is you cracking your head open on some pipe...and you start to feel light-headed or dizzy at all...we stop immediately...understood?"

Turning unseeing eyes to where he figured Nathan was Ezra blinded him with a gold studded smile and soft drawl, "Why...Mr Jackson...I am going ta assume that you are the individual telling untruths in this instance...and ignore you as necessary...come Mr Wilmington, your instruction please..."

Buck snorted at the southerner's wit; even doped on cough medicine and Tylenol the man was sharper than most of his peers, seeing Nathan's eyes narrow, Buck jumped in., "Well Ez...I have to say that I agree with Nate on this one..."

Nathan nodded at him in approval while Ezra tilted his head in thought, intoning softly with complete belief, "_That, _Mr Wilmington_ was most definitely a lie..._indicating that Mr Jackson's earlier instruction was the truth...damnation...very well gentlemen...lead on_._"

Ignoring Vin's sniggering at their wordplay and Miles' scrawling pen the three moved into the course, Ezra choosing Nathans direction of '_Three steps forward_' rather than Bucks, "_Walk two steps backwards_" .

They approached the first obstacle, the same one that Chris had run into, and Nathan called a soft, '_stop'_ while Buck said '_keep going'. _Ezra stopped, waiting for his next instruction. Buck went first, forehead puckered as he obviously thought of the his instruction with great care, '_if you want to end up like Chris, keep walking straight ahead..._' while Nathan countered with, _'there's nothing in front of you...keep walking'_

Ezra, who obviously remembered Chris's mishap, bent at the waist and ducked under the pole, standing slowly, although trusting one of the men to say something if he was about to brain himself. Standing again, he listened as Nathan said, "_You need to go backwards...at least two steps_" and Buck instructed, _'Go left until I say stop...'_ and left he went, although it was Nathan who said '_stop'_, Buck had said '_sit down_'.

And so it went, each obstacle they came to the two men did as they were bid, one lied and one told the truth. Using JD and Chris as an example, when they arrived at the fork, the three took the more difficult path, meaning that they didn't reach the impasse at the end. The course they chose was much more difficult that the one that Chris and JD had traversed, although the three seemed up to the task, easily passing the obstacles, despite the added handicap of having to decipher the lie from the truth.

Not that it was much of a handicap. Ezra was extremely adapt at reading people; he found most people had outrageous tells when lying, slightly more difficult while blind, but by no means impossible, particularly his friends. And the lies these two were telling weren't actually design to be difficult to decipher, if anything Nathan and Buck were being as obvious as they could in their instructions.

Both Buck and Nathan knew that Ezra wasn't feeling 100% and while there was even a small chance that he wouldn't catch the lie and perhaps do himself some injury, the two weren't willing to risk it, making the untruth as obvious as they possibly could.

Miles watched, fascinated as the three made their way across the field. This format, with three instead of two, and the added twist of the lie thrown in wasn't something that he used with every group, but every time he had used it in the past, he had seen the exacts same result. The two navigators had done their utmost to trip up their blindfolded team member; making the lies as difficult and detailed as possible. Nathan and Buck, however, seemed to be going out of their way to make it as easy as possible for Ezra.

It impressed the doctor; it showed that the two men were thinking in a way that most of the others who tried this tact didn't. They weren't thinking as the two navigators against the blindfolded person, but rather as the three of them against the course, and it seemed to be working perfectly.

The three had reached the last obstacle; a rather beastly construction of many jutting pieces and metal blockages. Although they were almost too far away to be heard, Miles was pretty sure he heard Buck say something about '_aliens_' and '_ice-skates_' and he watched as Ezra eased through the twisted metal, followed by Buck and then Nathan. Ezra had come through the course completely purple free, much to his delight. Nathan had several stains down his sleeves, and across the back of his shirt where he had misjudged how wide his shoulder where, and Buck had been doing really well, until he had overbalanced and grabbed a metal pole to right himself, coating his palm in a thick layer of the purple chalk, which he had then proceeded to rubb through his moustache, much to JD's amusement.

Ezra ditched the blindfold and moved across to where Chris and JD lounged on the sun strewn rocks, allowing himself to reluctantly be pulled up beside JD, berating the younger man for his mistreatment of his collar, which JD had tugged at impatiently. Buck and Nathan adopted similar poses to that of Chris, as they all turned their attention back to the other side of the field, where only Vin and Josiah remained to complete the activity.

Miles gave them 'the nod ', indicating that they should start, still scrawling madly on the notebook he'd pulled from his pocket. Josiah fingered the soft black cloth, watching Vin from the corner of his eye. The younger man appeared calm and collected, even enthused to get into the activity, but Josiah, through the ease of familiarity, could detect the ribbons of unease in the soft blue gaze and knew that Vin wasn't as 'ok' with the proceedings as he pretended. Despite the fact that he wasn't being expected to wear the blindfold himself, Josiah could see that the whole idea still made Vin uncomfortable.

He knew that he could ignore the unease that Vin was inadvertency displaying, and the younger man would go into the task without any problems; push aside whatever was bothering him, and no doubt perform his part of the task admirably.

But the unease would still be there, buried, lingering; and Josiah would know it.

Normally where reticent, untamed, placidly turbulent Vin Tanner was concerned, they usually turned to Chris; taciturn, withdrawn, tough as nails Chris Larabee and somehow, between the two of them they managed to keep each other sane. But Chris Larabee was on the other side of a field right now, and Josiah was right here…and the man was well regarded for his gentle advice….and Old Testament understanding.

Putting the blindfold up to his face, twisting it to ensure that the material was straight, Josiah reached back, audibly wincing as he attempted to tie the knot; and sure enough, sharp blue eyes immediately flew to his in concern, "Alright Josiah?" Vin asked, stepping closer.

Josiah nodded, relaxing his arms as he answered "Fine Vin...Just my old limbs protesting this position….just give me a second…" as he trailed off he pulled behind his head again, ignoring the spasm in his arm to tie the material, trying to visualize the motion, clenching his jaw against the ever present ache of old age.

At Vin's soft tongue click, Josiah let the blind fold drop with relief, turning to the quiet interruption. The tracker looked hesitant, almost wary, but still stepped closer and offered, "Can I help 'siah?" The request was born of goodwill towards a friend, despite his own discomfort; which Josiah could tell had grown at his offer.

Josiah tilted his head, studying his young team mate, and then making a decision, held out the blind fold, saying, "Only If you're sure Vin…heaven knows you shouldn't ever have to look at a blindfold again…"

As predicted, Vin's smaller hands batted his out of the way, and deft fingers firmly tied the blindfold as Vin spoke, "S'not a problem…I'se can do it…should be over it anyway..." and if his fingers trembled then neither one of them said anything.

Josiah felt Vin step back, and heard him rub his hands together as he spoke again, "Is…It's not too tight?..." and the preacher smiled reassuringly at him as he answered, "No Vin...that's fine…you're fine, thank you…shall we attempt this obstacle course?"

Vin nodded, as he turned to the field, saying, "Okay 'siah...but you know what's strange? I'se don't 'member you being this old when ya was wrassling with JD and Bucklin earlier…in fact…you looked right sprightly!"

Josiah grinned, knowing when he was busted, and took his sprightly body the commanded five steps forward, gladdened by the completely relaxed, if teasing tone that had replaced the tension in Vin's voice.

Besides, from the mad scrawling he could hear behind them, Josiah wasn't the only one pleased by his success; Miles sounded like he had thoroughly enjoyed his unexpected insight.

Miles had watched hundreds of pairs, as well as several trios cross the 'minefield' and whether successful or not, each team came up with their own method and mannerisms. Miles was pretty sure he had seen in all, from the very basic method that JD and Chris had used, '_one step forward…okay …actually you'll need to take another one…_' to the extremely detailed, '_four medium sized steps left and then bend at the waist approximately half your own height…._' Nathans instructions, whether the truth or not had been clean and precise, whereas Bucks had often varied, going off on some unrelated tangent.

For the first few obstacles it seemed that Vin and Josiah were going to use a method similar to that of JD and Chris, yet nowhere near as successfully utilised; already Josiah had several streaks of purple on his wide shoulders and his arms, mostly due to his girth and age, and the larger man obviously found his size to be disadvantage to the activity, and although not one to whine or criticize, it was plain that Josiah was not happy. Vin as attuned as he ever was, was easily picking up on his partners dissatisfaction, and as he often did, was taking it a little closer to heart that was strictly necessary; doing his utmost to help Josiah, yet mostly unsuccessfully.

Miles had, in the past, seen larger men and woman storm off the field in a temper, and while he didn't expect that from Josiah, he had hoped that the two would work well together, each with infinite patience and unassuming personalities. Miles had wanted to explore the similarities in their characters and how this helped develop their relationship. This frustration, while interesting, was masking the deeper understanding he had been after.

Finally the pair reached their third obstacle, a rather difficult pile of twisted metal rods, involving several ungainly moves to pass safely, and much harder than any they had attempted so far. Vin stared loathingly at the obstacle for several seconds, until he was interrupted by Josiah's question, "Am I right in assuming brother Vin…that we have reached a challenging obstacle?"

Vin all but growled his affirmative, still glaring at the pile in half parts disgust and healthy challenge; Vin Tanner did not like to fail, and despite his own purple free visage, the colour staining Josiah's clothes said that he _was _failing.

Miles leant against the first obstacle, notebook open on the metal sheet in front of him as he watched. The five men at the other end of the field were quietly observing, and Miles found it refreshing…too often he had seen those who had already completed the task heckle and mock those still trying to complete the activity; and although he had no doubt that these men could banter and tease each other among the best of them, their current sensitivity was welcoming.

The frustration that lit Vins face was not what the task was intended to show, it was designed to amplify how a team trusted one another, and that was not in doubt here, but these two's lack of success spoke in a different way to Miles. And then the sun seemed to come out. Vin's face suddenly morphed from frustrated irritation to radiant awareness as inspiration dawned. Miles surged forward, as he didn't want to miss whatever the young man had come up with.

Vin turned to Josiah, speaking, voice excited, "Josiah…the pile is 'bout as tall as you, slightly off to your left…it's got 7..no eight poles sticking out in front of you…blocking your way…each pole is 'bout the size of a broom handle…kinda looks like a ladder…all the poles are in a straight line on top of each other that way….about three inches between each pole…'cept the second gap from the bottom…it's ma'be twice as wide as the others…so you need to bend quite low to get under…but you need to step over the bottom pole, which is about an inch off the ground…'kay…"

Josiah, as well as Miles formed a picture in his head, and for Miles, who could also see the obstacle; the description was spot on…Josiah soon proved this as he stepped through the obstacle with little to no issue, easily avoiding the purple coated metal. It was the same for the next obstacle, and the one that followed that; Vin describing the blockage in perfect detail and Josiah using the mindscape to navigate the metal obstructions. Then Vin threw another spanner in the works; it was possibly their 11th obstacle, and while not overly difficult, it did require a certain amount of flexibility, and when Josiah had been unable to twist at the same time as duck, Vin had simply stretched out and pushed his head down, keeping it off the metal sheet he was going under. They had both frozen for a moment and then Vin had muttered, "He never said we couldn't physically help you…just that you had to be blindfolded…." And for the rest of the obstacles Vin had assisted Josiah under, over, between and around all manner of strange jutting metal pipes and sheets, stumbling out from under their last obstacle just over an hour later, no more purple than they had been at that third obstacle.

The other five men had broken into applause, JD jumping down to high five Vin, and Josiah having to get Buck to undo the knot that Vin had tied. Miles had joined the men in their congratulations, thanking them all for participating wholeheartedly in the activity, almost salivating at the observations he know had to draw on for his evaluative report.

Miles had a quick look around the field and tree line, and deciding that the position they had chosen among the rocks was the warmest, said, "Very well done guys…you've all earned a break…we'll stay here near the rocks were its warm, so pull-up a boulder or a patch of ground…I'm sure lunch will be out soon, providing they can find us… I may have neglected to let the kitchen know where we were going to be today…but I think that they will want to locate us…if only to stop 7 ravenous men from descending on them as you did your first night…please feel free to have a rest, talk…whatever you please…I'm going to go and inform the kitchen of where we are…I'll be back shortly…"

As Miles moved off towards the resort buildings, Josiah moved to sit on a conveniently placed boulder, a good two meters long and at least an inch and a half thick, leaning on a slight angle against another boulder, creating a rather out of place lounge affect, which the big man utilised to its full extent, stretching out to his total height, easing his muscles after their recent work out. JD, looking all the world like some wild 'king of the rock' caricature, sitting cross-legged on the highest flat surfaced rock in the near vicinity, purple hand and shoe prints marking his path up, down and then back up.

Nathan moved to steal the base of Josiah's rock, sitting upright as he watched Vin move to lean next to Chris, copying his position almost exactly. Ezra, still sprawled where he had been pulled up slightly below JD earlier, was already half lidded with sun drowsiness.

Buck looked up from his spot on the ground, sprawled at Vin and Chris's feet. He grinned up at the tracker. In the half a minute or so that had passed since Vin had leant against the rock, he had somehow come down from his adrenaline high and was on the verge of dropping off into sleep, Vin had the talent of being able to fall asleep fast, just about anywhere in any position. Buck however, knew that he'd just be woken again in a few moments when lunch arrived, and so didn't let common courtesy of not waking someone who was sleeping stop him from interrupting the younger man's spontaneous nap attempt. "So junior...I'm figuring that you've used up your quota of words for the next ten years…seeing how many you spurted in the last hour…." he teased, glad when Vin looked up and grinned back at him, squinting against the sun that his missing hat didn't shield.

"Well damn Bucklin…how ya gonna get them ladies when your 'stache's all purple…does your maggotism still work if'n you look like some 5 year old who's been eatin' blueberry pudding…. his face was serious, but the twinkle in his eye was anything but.

Buck sat up, hand going to his precious moustache, transferring even more purple if possible, "Magnetism…its _animal magnetism_….and not even a purple mohawk could keep the ladies off old Buck..."

Vin snorted, cracking one eye open to look down at Buck, responding dryly, "…old Buck…the lavender stud…oozing his an'mal maggotism…."

Buck opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted by the top rock dweller when JD, elbows hunched on his folded knees exclaimed, "Buck Wilmington…the Indigo Romeo!"

The ladies' man stared up at his closest compadre`, aghast at this intimate betrayal, but he didn't have too long to ponder it because his attention was drawn down to Ezra, who somehow looked as comfortable lounging on his rocky perch as he did in his silk sheeted bed. Despite the paleness of his face and the slight sheen of sweat; the glittering of his eyes was not caused by illness, but instead a well-placed sense of mischievousness, which he was using to effect now.

"Now Mr Wilmington…You know how we yearn to hear the exploits of this lilac lothario…our daring hero, the violet Valentino ….do regale us with your….why Mr Wilmington…I do believe your face is going positively puce!...no, I was mistaken…it is only the purple powder…. Although, I must say…that colour does wonders for your complexion…."

Buck gaped open mouthed in Ezra's direction, ignoring the snickering of Josiah, Nathans wide grin and JD's braying laughter, "I…You….purple...and…ladies and ..purple!...That's not true …that's… th...this…." Vin chose that unfortunate moment to smirk, and Buck snapped, "Th…this is _all_ _your fault!_"

The tall man lunged at Vin, grabbing the now all out laughing tracker around the waist, tackling him to the ground. Buck outweighing Vin by a good amount, as well as standing several feet taller, yet when riled or in danger Vin could wipe the floor with him, writhing like a wild cat and fighting dirtier than dirt. However, Vin was neither riled, nor in any danger at this point in time, and as such, Buck managed to pin the smaller man to the ground, although Vin did make this as difficult as possible.

Looking down from his position, basically sitting on Vin's chest, knees pinning Vins arms to the ground, Buck grinned wickedly, a maniacal gleam to his eyes as he spoke, "Why Junior…I do believe that you are the only one lacking in the purple department…did you miss out?...here let me help you with that…" he leaned in closer to Vin, one purple finger extended, intent obvious. Vin's teeth however, proved less restrained than the rest of him, and he snapped at the purple appendage, causing Buck to jerk back and several peals of laughter from various sources to ring out.

Two more attempts elicited the same response, and finally Buck looked up at the others watching on in avid interest, "Boys…I do believe that it would be in your best interest to help me while I've got him down…after all…ignoring the purple comments…I think he also called me old….and apart from this one, " he raked his hand down Vin's side, causing the tracker to yelp and renew his escape efforts, Buck continued, "and those two up there" he indicated JD and Ezra on the rock, adding, " I'm a spring chicken compared to the rest of you…why…Vin here must think you're ancient! "

Vin all but blanched when he saw where this was going and doubled his attempts to get away, utilising his previously ignored legs in an attempt to throw Buck off, he _really didn't want to be purpled! _ Chris tilted his head at Buck, eyes flickering down as blue rose to meet his green and he turned to Josiah who had propped himself up on his sun lounge, grey speckled head tilted as he obviously weighted up his choices. Finally Josiah grinned at Vin, and said, "Sorry Brother…but I do believe I owe you for this morning…I think you will be joining our little band of merry purple men after all…"and threw himself on Vin's legs, pining them flat to the ground.

Chris nodded his agreement as he moved, adding his own reason, "And I owe you for your wise cracking while I was completing the course…this old tired ass is about to kick yours!" and knelt down by Buck, Josiah and the still struggling Vin. Chris plunged his hands into the tangled curls, gripping firmly, not allowing any movement of the head in his grasp; as Buck grinned, muttering _magnetism… it's animal magnetism_…as he began to put his nefarious design into play.

Two minutes later Vin surged to his feet as Chris and Buck backed off quickly, joining the rest of the pack of laughing jackals as they gave the tracker some room to get his balance. Vin brushed the clinging dirt off his jeans and sweater, running his fingers through his hair, fully dislodging the hair band that had already been mostly pulled out, realising his wild flyaway hair into the breeze…he looked up balefully and the laughter stopped dead.

"What?" he snarled shoving his fringe back from his eyes as he looked at his staring team mates.

The six men continued to stare wordlessly and Vin grew less good naturedly incensed and more hesitantly uncomfortable, "What…what did you draw Buck?"

Finally JD sniggered again, and the lot of them lost it as Buck hastened to explain…"Sorry Vin…You were fighting like a comanche wild cat so I drew Indian war paint…we just didn't expect it to look quite so…authentic…when you stood up…"

It was the truth, when Vin had looked up, blue eyes wide and vivid above his sweater, tangled curls every which way, and purple war paint accompanied by a rather menacing glare…he could have been pulled straight from the old west…

Vin snorted, "Ya mean 'part from the white skin, blue eyes and completely wrong coloured hair….? Oh yeah…sure, I look jis' like an Indian…"

Josiah smirked as he accepted Vins hand up, gazing again at the two purple lines under each blue eye, and the one that ran down the bridge of his nose as he said, "Well yes… a white skinned, blue eyed Indian boy…a foundling perhaps….or stolen…"

Vin shook his head, not convinced, but conceded the point, after all, if one was to know, it would be Josiah…"If'n ya say so…'sides…ya got me…I'se done joined the purple people..."

Vin turned then, drawing the rest of the men's attention to where Miles was walking towards them, laden down with several baskets; it seemed that the kitchen hadn't taken too kindly to being left without a location. Vin, Chris and Josiah moved to help the doctor with his burden.

As they waited Ezra sat up from his curled position, repositioning in the sun, he smirked down at Buck, looking at his pristine jeans and shirt, and despite knowing that he was courting fate, called softly, "I do believe that you are mistaken Mr Wilmington. Mr Tanner was not the only one to make it through the course unblemished..."

Buck turned back from watching the approaching meal, laughing as JD suddenly jumped down, rushing towards the incoming men with an apparent need to help. The ladies' man brought his hand up and indicated his throat, saying, "You made it through the course purple free…but JD took care of you the second you finished…when he tugged you up on that rock; it kind of looks like you've been strangled by some great purple handed monster…"

Ezra gasped, pulling on his shirt feverishly, seeming not to care if he stretched it in his rush to see that it was not stained. The large purple prints and smudges at his lapels did nothing to dissuade his horror struck visage…and he moved to intercept JD. Buck caught his arm as he passed saying, "If it's any consolation…the kid didn't mean to do it…he really was trying to help you…he knows you're not feeling to hot…" as he had expected, Ezra deflated, listing back to lean against his rock again.

"Well I suppose…there are worse groups I could find myself an unwilling party to, than our little band of purple companions …" his grin turned wicked as he added, "but I shan't tell JD this just yet…"

Buck was saved from a response by the arrival of the lunch laden men; and the seven, plus Miles went about setting up the various sandwich platters and fruit bowls, handing out soft drinks and bottles of water as everyone sat in a semicircular shape around the assortment of baskets.

It was a simple lunch, just basic finger food, but after the exertion, of both mind and body, of the morning the men welcomed it, and Miles. Looking at the now _decorated_ Vin Tanner, had to wonder just what he'd missed.

There had of course, been a few incidents worth observation.

The first had been Ezra's softly voiced statement as they had passed out the sandwiches. "Mr Wilmington…all jokes about your animal," he stopped to look at Vin for confirmation before continuing, "maggotism aside…are you aware that purple is the colour of the sexually frustrated…is there perhaps less to the great Buck Wilmington's pursuits than we have been led to believe?"

Of course Buck had retaliated in much the same manner as he always did, with charm and unabashed boasting, "Ol...no, not old…Just plain Buck has decided that you do not appreciate his wealth of experience in this matter and will leave you in the dark as to the lovely attributes of Mindy…and Sarah…and Cora…I tell you…the girls just cannot resist the old Buck charm…"

To which Vin, reclined against the rock he and Chris had been leaning against earlier, eyes closed in apparent sleep, chimed in with, "And there he goes gettin' old again…."

Then there was JD's rather inane question as they were packing up.

He's actually acted a little strange throughout the entirety of the meal, for one he was being quiet and for another, although he ate as ravenously as ever, he did so neatly and with no interference from Buck. Then there had been the sighs and slightly puzzled looks, the disgruntled but almost silent exclamations of frustration. The rest of the seven knew that JD was obviously turning something over in his mind; they'd seen it on numerous cases. JD would go quiet and then out of nowhere come out with some strange technicality or ingenious use of a previously obsolete tracking device.

They'd been compartmentalising for the kitchen staff, left overs in one basket and rubbish in another when JD had paused in his attempt to shove three more bottles into the trash one and sat back on his heels, throwing his hands, and the bottles, up in defeat, "Okay...that's it! I give in….is it purple, or does it eat purple people…and if it eats purple people than where does it live, because we don't have purple people…and if it is purple than does that mean it will eat us…or it won't…because we're also purple….."

Seven sets of eye stared at him for a moment, and JD stared back unabashed. Then as one the rest of the team just turned back to what they had been doing before the interruption, and continued on.

JD stared at his team's ignorance of his question, demanding "_What?_"

The six men ignored him and finished up what they were doing. They also knew _this_ side of JD, if they indulged him, they'd be stuck for hours engaged in purple people and purple monsters.

'_Buck, do you think the sky would be blue if you were colour-blind…or would it be green. Would you even know? How do we know the skies not orange and were all colour blind?'_

'_If dog is man's best friend…then why do we need cats…are they woman's best friend…but then what about all the woman that are dog people…and whats the deal with the Egyptians then…they worshipped cats…did anyone ever worship dogs…or do we just eat our best friend?'_

'_Why are red heads fiesty, brunettes smart and blondes dumb…lots of Irish have red hair, a fair proportion of their nation has red hair...does than make the Irish feistier…and the Swedish dumb…and does your label change when you dye your hair or is it applicable to natural colour only…does that mean Chris is dumb and Ezra is sort of almost fiesty smart…and I'm. Well, we have black hair, is that like dark brown, which is super smart…or I suppose if red or blond got dark enough it would be black too…so are we super feisty and super dumb as well. And how do we know which one if we are black haired_'

All in all, the team had learned it was safer to leave JD's supposition to JD and JD alone.

Miles however, had not known this.

Thankfully though, the man was a font of patience. And also the leader in this situation, and he moved into the next activity with relish and relief.

"Okay guys…this one's quite simple…easy to explain and easy to do…I call it the willow in the wind…if you'll all just form a circle here…a bit closer together…okay, that's good" the seven men fell into a tight circle, standing shoulder to shoulder, while Miles outside, continued his explanation, "Okay… Each person gets a turn in the middle, a chance to be the 'willow' and the others are the 'wind'…JD…we'll use you to demonstrate…step into the middle please"

JD stepped into the circle and the other six moved closer to close the gap, Miles continued, "Okay, circle, hands up in front of you, palms up, one foot forward as support…JD…cross your arms over your chest and close your eyes…now lean back…guys…without grabbing him or catching him, keep your hand flat...I want you to buffer him around the group….JD…you don't have to do anything…just trust them to keep you upright…"

Miles watched as the game began, and as he had expected, after a start at the initial inertia JD didn't have any trouble trusting his team to throw him safety around the circle, and indeed, as the game progressed the moves got more and more outrageous. Buck skipping Chris to shove JD straight to Nathan, Ezra slow bouncing him so that once JD had started to move back towards the centre he dropped back to the southerner…any variation they could think of the team tried; and JD laughed the whole way through it.

It was exactly what Miles hoped to see.

For some teams, this activity was entirely too much, the middle member was unable to keep their feet planted, or unable to keep their eyes closed. And those around the outside didn't trust themselves, and were timid, making the inside person hesitant as well.

They rotated through the members clockwise, with Buck following JD. Buck was quite a lot larger than JD, as well as being both taller and heavier, but with Nathan and Josiah in the circle it wasn't a problem. Interspersed as they were, with Nathan between JD and Ezra and Chris between Josiah and Vin, it really wasn't a problem to catch Buck, despite his larger size and the team soon got into the swing of things, adjusting their stance to accommodate the size difference.

Chris was after Buck, and Miles was interested to see how the leader coped with the less than gentle ride he was likely to get, considering he had no control over it. As before, with the obstacle course, Miles realized that no authority was sought and none was relinquished. Vin in particular like to see how far he could go with Chris, hoping to illicit some reaction other than the seasoned grin, at one stage all but bodily throwing the man directly across the circle. It didn t even faze Chris.

Nathan experienced the same sense of inertia as Buck, due to his height and size, but like Buck, soon acclimatized…his turn was rather different than the three before him, as the team seemed to know that Nathan wouldn't enjoy the fast unpredictable roller coaster as much as they had, they slowed the buffering down and made it smoother, which Nathan actually seemed to find quite soothing.

Ezra was next, and although one of the smaller members of the team, again it was smoother, the team catering for the fact that he wasn't feeling well. Even so, his turn stopped after only a few minutes when his right hand unconsciously moved from his chest to his stomach, and Nathan called a halt. Even if Ezra was actually feeling nauseas, which he denied he was, being tossed about could not feel good to someone who's inner balance was all out of whack and so it was Vin's turn.

As the lightest of the group, and also the most daredevil, the team didn't hold back, and JD's previously wild ride looked like a merry go round in comparison to Vins whirling spiralling form. Chris, possibly in retaliation of his own turn, and knowing who would have been the most extreme, turned the game back on the tracker and finished Vins turn in a manner that Miles had not been expecting.

Over the past few years he had, on occasion seen people fall in this game…where the trust had not been strong enough and accidents had happened, thankfully no one had ever been injured. In every case that had happened, Miles had observed that as the inside person fell past the point where they knew they definitely should have been caught; he or she inevitably curled in on themselves, trying to protect themselves in the incoming fall.

Vin had fallen, well past the point when he should have been going '_oh crap_', but he hadn't really reacted. Miles had noticed a slight tensing of his muscles, but his body remained as loose in its firmness as it had from the beginning, and two inches from the ground one of Chris's hands found his shoulder and the other his chest, stopping his movement dead.

Throughout the whole process Miles knew only one thing for absolute sure…Vin Tanner had absolutely no fear that he would fall…or rather…absolutely no fear that he wouldn't be caught.

Josiah, older and larger than the other team members showed the most apprehension, but once he stood in the centre and the team started the same slow, relatively gentle motions as they had used with Nathan and Ezra, he eased into it; even starting to enjoy it as the activity came to an end.

Miles was well pleased with their efforts and his observations; the activity was a simple one, and quite fast dependant on the team size; but it allowed him to confirm and reassess many aspects of trust within a very short space of time.

It was also quite exhaustive, another reason to keep it relatively short, especially before he asked them to attempt the third and final activity of the day.

He waited several minutes as the men gathered themselves, water was drunk and calming breaths were taken as sweat was wiped from foreheads before he began to speak.

"Great job guys…I hope you enjoyed that…It's not my intention to bore you to death this week…now… the next activity is the also the last of the day…and I will warn you…it is without a doubt, the most dangerous thing you will be asked to do here…and as I said this morning…participation is completely up to you…it is also the hardest activity of the lot…and I will tell you this now…if you don't succeed, don't feel too bad. You fit with the other 98% of teams to come through here…"

Miles could see that he had their attention, and didn't tell them that the reason they were here is because if anyone fit into that top 2% it was certainly them. The next activity was all but impossible, and it had been years since Miles had seen it successfully completed…and he honestly didn't think these seven men, no matter how brilliant, were going to change that…

It was also a way to see how the team did in the face of a no win situation.

Miles led the way back into the field where they had completed the morning's first task. The piles of junk metal looked strange in the late afternoon light, less shine and more shadow. They walked down the edge of the field in single file, Miles drawing them to a stop before the wall, cast in dark shadow on the side they stood, blocked from the sun.

Up close the wall was even more alien in appearance. At least 4 meters of shiny silver surface; perfectly flat and smooth, stretching up towards the sky, running 15 meters between the tree line and the lake.

Miles lead them around it, walking the perimeter; as they rounded the end near the lake the team saw that it was about 10 centimetres wide, the edging was also a smooth polished metallic material.

They returned to the front of the wall and Miles turned to them... "Your mission… should you choose to accept it…..sorry…sorry… basically, you have to get your entire team on top of that wall" he pointed up as he spoke, continuing, "You can use anything you have on your person as well as anything that would naturally be in the area…basically, no dismantling my obstacles…also…no damaging my wall…what do you think?"

Of all the tasks that Miles asked of the teams he was evaluating, the wall was often the most interesting, it looked impossible, and was even harder than it looked. That wasn't to say it couldn't done; the first time he had seen it completed, the man involved had pulled metal spikes from his jacket pockets (which still confounded Miles), and using a rock had created a ladder type apparatus up the side of the wall, allowing himself and his five team members to climb. It had been this scenario that had birthed the 'no damaging the wall' rule.

One team had butchered several of his obstacles, undoing bolts and pulling metal poles out, creating a climbing frame which they used to great effect, scaling the wall almost effortlessly, with too much ease, hence the 'no touching the obstacles' rule.

A team of forty plus men, all police and fire rescue crews, after 9 '11 had hefted the huge two meter slab of granite that Josiah had been resting on earlier and had learnt it against the wall, creating a ramp. The theory had been sound, but the wall hadn't been long enough to sit all forty men, and thus they had failed on a technicality. The boulder had been a struggle for the sheer number of men, and there was no way team 7 was going to duplicate the effect.

Miles had no doubt that it could be done, but it was also impossibly hard.

Team 7 seemed to be coming to the same conclusion.

Ezra had groaned at the news of what lay ahead of him; he wouldn't welcome such physical exercise on a normal day, and on a day when he was under the weather, tired and generally miserable… having said that, the southerner was still gazing at the wall with stubborn determination, mapping its contours, looking for a method of execution that would successfully get them on top.

Chris Larabee, ever the undisputed leader of team 7 had gazed at the wall earlier in the day, taking in the unyielding surface, the sheer height and obvious difficulty that would be had finding ways to get 7 different men up on top. On another day, Chris might even welcome the challenge, and didn't think he would be alone…but today really wasn't that day.

Ignoring the wall to turn to his team, Chris observed the six men as they all sought ways to complete the latest task. The fact that even now, tired, at the end of a long physical day, his men would still do their best to do themselves; the team and Chris proud, humbled him in a way that not much else could.

He caught Vin's gaze, knowing that if one of them was going to get the team on top of that wall, than it would in all likelihood be Vin Tanner. The man had an uncanny knack for heights and unapproachable goals. Chris had seen Vin scale walls as easily as one would walk along the flat surface of the ground. As sniper, Vin often had to attain height in less than providing places, frequently turning a tree branch or warehouse rafter into a veritable nest. The tracker was surefooted, perfectly balanced, incredibly flexible and undeniably creative in his approach.

Uncannily aware that Chris wanted his opinion on the task, Vin replied in kind, lifting one shoulder in a minute shrug.

'_Can pro'ly do it….ain't gonna be easy though…_'

Chris nodded at Vins silent assessment…the fact that Vin had said 'probably' rather than just 'can' instilled a sense of doubt in Chris that nothing else would…if nothing else, Vin was sure of his abilities, and those of the team.

Vin, he knew, would find a way to get on top of that wall, hell, the man had probably already figured out two or three viable approaches and he knew without a doubt the other five men on his team would do their best to get to the top of the wall, and would ultimately succeed. He also knew that Ezra felt like crap, Josiah was feeling his age after all the twisting and turning from the mornings activity, and from the amount of yawns he had watched Vin stifle, as well as the several impromptu naps he'd been disturbed from during the day, he knew that Vin was tired.

Chris knew that Nathan was worried, not about anything or anyone in particular; sure he had mild concern for Ezra's health, which would deepen should Ezra's condition worsen, but the medic always held a distinct and constant concern for each of the other men as well… the man was stressed, tense and worried under his calm façade. Nathan hadn't relaxed since they'd almost lost Vin, and although Vin was in the clear now, Nathan wasn't quite ready to let down his guard.

Buck and JD were still all unbridled energy and rearing to go, but Chris knew that Buck was definitely feeling the consequences of the morning, as much as Chris himself was. It wasn't by any means a debilitating effect, but he felt it none-the-less. As for JD…well the enthusiasm and glow of youth would have to sustain that one for a little longer.

Chris could see every reaction from overly enthused to complete dread in the body language of his men, but knew, when he asked, all 6 of them would throw themselves into the task without a nary of complaint, well, except for perhaps Ezra; the southerner would throw himself into it with as much gusto as the others but it would be a 'lack of complaint' that would worry Chris.

Chris had his plan of action before he'd even consciously thought about the actual wall, and turned to Miles, aware of his men falling into silence behind him, "Sorry Doc… we're going to give this one a miss…my old ass just can't hack it anymore…and I'm not willing to risk any of my team injuring themselves trying to complete this task as tired as some of us are... "

Miles noted that as soon as Chris had spoken the refusal, both Buck and Vin had stepped up on either side of him, ready to support him should Miles insist or argue, not that Miles had any intention of doing so. He'd stated it plainly earlier; they were free to choose to not participate in today's activities. As much as Miles would have liked to have seen team 7 attempt the wall, there was nothing he could do to sway their leader's opinion.

JD, he could see was obviously disappointed, but he didn't say a word about their decision not to climb the wall, and Miles wondered whether this was absolute deference to Chris's authority as leader or if it was respect of Chris's authority as leader. The only difference was that later, in private, JD might voice his disagreement, but holding to the rigid hierarchy in public to show Chris as the voice of the group.

Miles suspected the latter, and was pleased to note that it would correlate with his familial view of the team. The ideal of respect rather than deference to leadership was most noted in tribal cultures, gangs; when fear didn't overrule the respect, and inter-family relationships. Another difference for his report, teams hoping to duplicate team 7's success would need to be able to move beyond obedience for obedience sake and into obedience through respect.

Vin was another who was disappointed, despite having stepped up to support Chris, and from the dark circles starting to form under his eyes, also notwithstanding the fact that he was tired. Miles wondered what time the young man had gone out to jog that morning; the day had been a physically taxing one, but not to the extent of fatigue unless one had been unwell beforehand, like Ezra, and as far as he could tell, Vin was healthy, just tired.

Even their refusal gave him material to work with, and Miles considered this added bonus as he weighed it against his disappointment that he wouldn't get to see team 7 attempt the wall climb. "Okay…if you're sure….I can't say I'm not disappointed but it is totally up to you…." He trailed off on the off chance that Chris might relent, change his mind or assume his disappointment was a challenge. When all Chris did was stare back unblinking Miles added, "Fair enough…well thanks for your effort today guys...I know you're not all feeling 100% and some of you appear to need an early night…so that's it for the day…dinner is in your rooms tonight…just phone through your orders after 6pm…10:30 start tomorrow morning, in the conference room…your welcome to have breakfast either in your rooms or in the dining hall from 8…I'll see you all tomorrow…"

Miles turned and began to pack up the few things that were still out from the morning; putting blindfolds back in boxes and returning them to the hidden car frame. He heard the seven's chatting begin to trail off as he packed up the three baskets from their lunch, knowing that the kitchen staff would be after his blood should the supplies not get returned. Having assumed that the seven were gone, he was surprised when hands suddenly began to divest him of some of his burden.

JD and Vin each took a basket, JD grinning at Miles shocked yelp, as Vin elbowed his friend in the ribs as as he apologised "Sorry Doc…me an' JD jus' thought ya might wan' a hand with them baskets…not right makin' ya lug 'em all the way ya 'self when we ate most of it…" Miles grinned his acceptance at the pair, leading the way towards the kitchens, trailed by JD and Vin.

Miles knew that of the seven, JD was the one most likely to run his mouth, and he didn't mean that in a bad way. JD's young age and enthusiasm for information just made him unable to stop talking for long periods of time; his thirst to know everything…see everything and experience everything as well as his general naivety to the harsher sides of life made him a much more open person than the majority of his team mates.

Vin, on the other hand was the complete opposite, despite the fact that Miles guessed he wasn't much older than JD physically, it was apparent that the tracker had lived a much tougher, longer life. Quiet and reticent to draw attention to himself, Vin blended into a conversation where JD stood out. It was similar between Vin and Ezra. Although in that case, Miles figured that Vin protected himself with silence and invisibility whereas Ezra was an assortment of masks, each loud and glaringly 'in your face', deliberately so; hiding his softer, sensitive inside from any who didn't care to look past the exterior.

As it was, Miles was hard pressed to keep up with the questions firing at his from his left, "Do you live here year round…how many teams do you see a year, is flying really the only way in or out…is that drive really necessary…why don't you fix the road…how many staff do you have…do you fly supplies, like food, in? You said you have a doctor on staff…what do you do when there is no one here…is there ever no one here? Are you booked out year round…how far advanced are you booked out…if you live in a place like this where do you go on vacation…Is there a pl.. "

JD was cut off by a second elbow to his ribs from a laughing Vin as the tracker interrupted him, "Give 'im a chance ta answer JD…"

JD blushed at his prattling spiel, nodding his head to Miles raised eyebrow, grinning when Miles smiled his acceptance of JD's chatter box ways, much the same as the team did. He had in the past, been subject to ridicule and cruelty due to his penchant for talking too much, but never with these men, not once, not even when he was brand new…only gentle teasing, brotherly mocking and acceptance; which he was allowed to return in regards to their vices as well

Miles shook his head at the unabashed look on JD's face, answering as best as his memory allowed "Well…I live here year round…and I holiday with my parents and brother over Christmas and such…I have a pretty much full calendar for the next 3 years…" this was said with a small grin, it had taken a long time to build his reputation as one of the best in the business and he took no small pride in it, "I had that road fixed three weeks before you arrived, but I swear it and mother nature conspire against me…we fly all our supplies and gear in, usually bulk as the nearest established town is a good day and a half drive away and even then it's only a basic settlement, nearest city is two days drive…but the remote location was deliberate, so no complaining…You've met the majority of the staff, although thankfully not our medical official, Dr Hemlin…not that you would have need of him with Nathan present….and I think that should just about satisfy your curiosity…and look…the kitchens…"

The two younger men allowed Miles to take their baskets from them, waving away his thanks with a directive to pass it to the kitchen staff instead and turned back the way they came, JD calling over his shoulder "Thanks Doc…we'll see you tomorrow!" Shaking his head, Miles entered the kitchen domain, immediately on his best behaviour, plastering on his most charming smile…lesson number one: never, ever insult the kitchen staff when all you can cook is instant noodles.

It wasn't until he left the kitchen several minutes later, profuse thanks heaped on the people within, and turned left towards his rooms, that something strange occurred to Miles. Vin and JD's hotel rooms lay in the building along the path to his right, yet Vin and JD had gone back the way they had come. Curiosity piqued Miles also turned to follow their inbound path, carefully watching ahead to see where the two youngsters had disappeared to.

It soon became apparent as he passed the turnoff to the pool, then the tennis court, and the entertainment room…and headed back out into the field. Miles would give his eye teeth if they hadn't headed for the wall.

Sure enough, Miles approached the concealed end of the obstacle course, staying in the trees, not wanting to disturb his observational jackpot; because it was pretty damn apparent that the other five were not aware that Vin and JD were about to attempt the wall climb.

That was to say, that Chris Larabee was unaware. And would probably be less than impressed if…no, when, he found out.

Miles himself was a little disappointed in the two, for all that he had seen so far, the team were incredibly honest with each other, extremely trusting and very respectful…so the fact that Vin and JD would shirk Chris's decision in such a manner was strangely upsetting. That was, until Miles skewed his thought pattern a little…it was exactly the sort of thing his little brother would have done had their parents or Miles, if he was in charge, forbidden something that _Bobby just had to do_.

Shaking his head in amusement at the thought, Miles wondered if he should step in and stop the pair. He hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said the wall was their most dangerous activity. The sheer height gave it great potential for injury, and Miles had seen several people injured in the attempt, although never when they teams had worked together efficiently and confidently, trusting each other completely. And for all that he had compared them to his little brother, Bobby, he did not share that relationship with either of them, and the men who did were not here. He also took into account the fact, that like Bobby, neither JD nor Vin were exactly children anymore; not that it would stop him from telling Bobby that he was an idiot, but the point remained.

Vin and JD were both adults, they knew the situation was dangerous and were thinking about going ahead with it, also knowing that the result may also have its own sense of danger in the form of their team mates. Besides, Miles was convinced that they would not succeed; neither of the two was tall enough to climb up, not even from the other's shoulders. Miles was just interested in their interactions as they attempted it, the dynamic between them more than any technique they attempted. And the crux of the matter was that they had supervision, even if they were not aware of it.

Vin sat on the ground in front of the wall, looking up at the monolithic structure, taking in the smooth surface. He spoke to JD, who was leaning against the wall "Ya wanna try, right?"

JD pushed off the wall and held a hand out for Vin, tugging him to his feet as he answered, "Yep…and so do you…I know we can do it…."

Running his hand across the wall Vin grinned towards JD, "And when Chris threat'ns ta shoot us?..." his eyes tracked from the left to the right, taking in every inch of the wall, looking for something, anything that would give him the answer.

Sniggering as he toed of his shoes, pulled off his socks and rolled his pants up, JD answered "If we're fast enough Chris won't even have to know and if he does find out….well, then it will be the same as it every other day…" was his smart-ass reply.

Vin tugged his hair back messily, securing it with the band, smirking as he nodded, "Okay…le's see how fas' we can do this…so Chris doesn' find out…You go firs'…what's your idea?"

Eyes roved the wall for an instant more before JD turned to stare at Vin for a second, blushing as he answered, "Well…I don't actually have one, per se…I was hoping that you…."

Vin snorted…"An' if I hadn' cottoned on to what ya were doin' by help'n out the doc…ya was jus' gonna stan' here and stare at the wall…?" JD looked set to argue, but couldn't think of anything to say, the Texan shook his head as he added, "Well I has an idea for me…but I hadn' thought o' one for you…"

JD just nodded his acceptance, knowing that Vin wouldn't say something like that just to rub it in. He said as much, "That's okay Vin…I'll…I'll just stay down here…go on…see if you can get up there…" he was serious when he spoke, but the look of utter misery was enough to make Vin's insides shrivel an sighing he turned to the wall, seeking some way to get JD up there that he would be able to manage.

Finally he nodded, "Okay... I s'pose ya can do the same as me … come over here...oh, an' take ya shirt off…" JD, lighting up like a christmas tree, eagerly shed his shirt, dragging it over his head as he followed Vin to the forest end of the wall.

Vin ran his hand up and down the 10 centre meter end, it was as smooth and shiny as every other section of the wall, and as the chill in the steadily cooling hand made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, Vin grinned, thinking that this _just might work._

And then he tried to explain his idea to JD.

"Okay…ya need ta pull yourself up using' your skin…like a suction…hands and feet on either side of the wall and stomach and chest against the end here…" Vin pointed at the narrow end section of the wall.

JD just stared at him and then shook his head, "How…like a suction…Vin there ain't no way I can…"

Vin nodded encouragement, "Sure ya can…just climb up the end of it, as long as ya belly doesn' lose contact with the wall and ya don't back slide ya should be able ta climb it…have a go…I'll help when I can…"

JD nodded, game to at least try, although he still didn't really know what Vin meant. Stepping up to the wall, he let Vin guide his body up and the slid down angst the end section, yelping he pulled away, "Goddamn it, that dam well hurts!"

Vin grimaced, "Sorry…shoulda warned ya...it's the cold metal pullin' on the hairs on ya skin…hurts like a bitch, but I swear it won' leave a mark…If'n it hurts too much though…."

JD sucked in a breath, shaking his head and then repeated the move, and had to admit it didn't hurt nearly so much now that he anticipated the pain. And that's when he noticed he really was sort of 'stuck' against the wall and an inkling of understanding entered his mind.

Vin nodded in approval..."okay... …two rules If'n ya don't wanna fall…keep ya butt below ya knees an' don't lean back…gotta keep ya centre of gravity low…okay… I'se gonna help ya with this next bit, cos its hard on ya own…"Vin helped JD get his feet on the wall, using his own strength to keep JD plastered until his centre of gravity was set, body low on the wall, hands and feet higher on either side. Vin continued, "Okay, ya good…now, I'm gonna let ya go and ya should stay on the wall…oaky.." he didn't wait for JD's answer, but immediately stepped back; JD clenched his eyes and readied himself to fall.

Only he didn't.

Opening his eyes, he was amazed to find himself still on the wall, suctioned on like a limpet. Vin grinned at JD's obvious excitement, but reached out to steady him when he wobbled, admonishing, "Steady, breath deep…ya can't get excited or this won' work…okay?"

JD nodded, taking several deep breaths and Vin added the next part of the instructions… "Okay, lock ya arms and knees against the wall, now…without moving your butt…suck ya belly in and the stretch up before letting ya breath out…" JD did as he was told, noting the extremely tight stretched feeling all down his torso when he settled against the wall again, ignoring the pull of the metal on his hair.

Vin crowed, "That's good…ya a natural JD…that's the hard bit…now all ya gotta do is move first ya hands then ya feet a little bit up the wall…don't move ya stomach or ya butt…" JD did as he was instructed, carefully inching his limbs up the wall and was amazed to finds that the rest of his body inched up as he adjusted his centre of gravity…and suddenly he realised he was climbing the wall.

Grinning madly he repeated the process, grinning as he was soon higher than Vin was standing. It was tiring work, essentially holding his own weight up the whole way, keeping his arms and legs locked when they weren't moving and the slow burn of the cold metal against the skin of his stomach. But inch by inch, higher he went up the wall.

And then 10 minutes later he stopped to take a breath for a moment, leaning back to get his balance.

Leaning back.

Vin's shout alerted him at the exact same time his body started to fall backwards and he tried to adjust his grip, scrambling for the wall, but it was no good, and down he went. Landing on something quite soft that 'oomphed' as it went down too.

A second later JD rolled off Vin, who had broken his fall, fanatically looking his friend over for cuts, bruises and broken bones, thinking '_If Chris doesn't kill me…Nate will!'_

Then broke out laughing as he realised that Vin was doing the exact same to him.

Across the field, Miles let out a breath of relief, he'd honestly started to believe that JD's limpet like crawl up the side was actually going to make it when the boy had seemingly just toppled backwards, and Miles had felt his throat constrict. Thankfully Vin had been on the ball and managed to get under JD's fall, slowing him down. His breathing eased as they got to their feet, neither one seemingly hurt.

He wondered if they would give in now.

"I did say not ta lean back….you okay?" Vin asked as he help JD to his feet.

JD grimaced at the reminder, knowing that he'd been so close…and then to have done one of the two things Vin had said not to… "I'm fine…just stupid…."

Vin grinned as he shook his head, "Y ain't stupid…you got any idea how long it took me to remember not ta lean back…I fell on my ass more times than I can remember…Told ya…you're a natural…"

JD grinned at the praise, "Okay...I'll just try again…I got the knack of it now…I didn't make bad time…should be even faster now that I know what I'm doing…" he stepped up to the wall again, intent on having another attempt.

Vin interrupted him, "Won't work now…one time deal…"

JD frowned, asking the age old question of every Nobel Prize winner and two year old on the planet, "Why?"

Vin, grabbed his hand and placed it on the wall, instructing as he went, "Feel the metal…the oil and sweat in ya skin has made it slippr'y…means ya cain't stick no more…tha's why ya cain't backslide…"

JD nodded, face falling as his hope of scaling the wall dropped, and Vin snorted at the hang dog look on his face, grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the other end of the wall, about a meter out from the bitterly cold water of the lake, "Here ya go...this end will still work…an' if ya think you can get ya 'self-settled against the wall without my help…I can make it even faster…"

JD nodded, excitement growing again, "I know I can do it this time…how are you going to help make the climb faster?"

Vin smiled as he knelt by the wall, hand on the surface as he spoke, "Ya gonna start higher…climb up on my shoulders…"

JD did so, stepping up, barefoot onto Vins lean shoulders and with the help of the wall Vin pulled himself to his feet, holding steady as JD did as he had said and managed to settle himself properly against the wall. Vin stepped back and watched as JD climbed, knowing that he would be successful this time.

5 minutes later JD managed to pull himself up on top of the wall and Vin broke out clapping from the ground, whooping as JD punched the air in victory.

Looking down at his friend in excitement JD called, "This is awesome! You've gotta see this...come on Vin…get up he….oh crap…I took your side of the wall…." JD looked down; upset that Vin had let him use his own idea and opportunity, rather than let JD miss out.

"I'm sorry Vin...I didn't even think…I can't believe you didn't say….It was your idea…you should be up here…"

Vin grinned up at JD, "It's okay JD…I got another idea…I'll be up there in a minute…"

Miles grinned in delight as JD managed to get himself on top of the wall, laughing at the obvious exhilaration on the young man's face, and then frowned when JD suddenly seemed to become upset. Miles wondered what the two were saying, he couldn't hear it, but from there body language JD was feeling guilty and Vin was being reassuring.

Vin turned and walked back to the other end, and Miles assumed he would use the same technique as JD on this side of the wall. And then Vin disappeared into the trees.

Miles could tell from how JD stared after Vin that the youngest had no idea what his partner in crime was up to, and Miles had to admit that he was stumped as well.

Then two minutes later, Vin's lithe form leapt out of a tree over six meters in the air, angled to the left and down, obviously aiming for the wall top. JD jumped in fright, but was thankfully well balanced, with one leg on either side of the wall. Miles himself jumped, a soft cry of shocked worry escaped his lips as he followed Vins strangely very slow momentum down, just knowing, _knowing_, that the young man was going to miss his mark and become a smudge on the ground that Miles would then have to explain to a very pissed of Chris Larabee.

Vins upper torso caught the wall, his arms safety on one side and his body on the other, exactly as he had aimed, or at least near enough to. His jarring stop led to a solid thump and a harsh exhalation of air from his lungs as he slammed into the wall, and then JD's excited jabber broke the silence.

"Oh my god Vin…Oh my god...how did you…that was amazing...are you okay… that was awesome!" he trailed off as Vin pulled himself onto the top of the wall, and they shuffled in from each end to meet near the middle, both grinning, exalted with the results of their labour.

Unaware that Vin Tanner had just given their psychiatric observer the fright of his life, both young men sat on top of the wall, feet swinging as they watch the sun approach the horizon.

And then came the question, "Say Vin…how are we going to get down?"

45 minutes after Vin and JD had set off after Miles, each bearing a basket, the two youngest let themselves into Chris's and Vin's room, correctly guessing that the rest of the team would be gathered there.

Buck was on the phone, seemingly calling through to the kitchen for the team's dinners; both JD and Vin called their orders to the man as they sprawled in the same state of relaxed contentment as the rest of the seven. JD stole what had previously been Bucks position stretched out on the carpet in front of the TV and Buck tossed a pillow off Vins bed at their youngest in retaliation, which JD neatly tucked under his head.

Vin flopped down next to the Chris on the blonds' bed, seeing as how his was currently occupied by a napping Ezra, or at least, he had been napping, but was now kicking futilely at Buck, in reprisal for the pillow theft the bigger man had committed. At Ezra's next lacklustre kick, Buck, still talking on the phone, grabbed his ankle and tugged him down off the rest of his veritable mound of pillows, scrounged and pilfered from every bed and cupboard in both his and the teams next closest room, which happened to be Josiah's.

Ezra squawked in dismay, scrambling back onto his nest, curling back into a ball, hugging several of the hotel white mounds to his chest protectively, hooded green eyes scowling at the rest of the team, just _daring_ them. No one took the challenge and two minutes later Ezra was napping again, long day, physical strain and illness getting to him.

Josiah was seated on the small two seater couch, taking up the majority of it with his, admittedly large frame, long legs stretched out in front of him, approaching JD's back. The older man was either half asleep or deep in contemplation; perhaps both.

Nathan had seated himself at the table, although not the most comfortable of seats, the padded chair was well enough and it wasn't crowded by other tired bodies, although Buck joined him when he hung up the phone a moment later.

"Meals should be here in about an hour... JD, flick the box on will ya?" JD complied with Bucks demand; after the remote was found shoved down between the cushions on the couch.

The tail end of the nightly soap was ignored as Chris asked, "Certainly took you boys long enough to go to the kitchens and back...we could have had pizza delivered form Denver while you gone" the teasing statement was left hanging, but the question was obvious.

JD replied, "We got talking to the Doc...About the valley and the resort and how long he'd lived here and the staff and how many teams he saw and how popular he was and how the plane and supplies and such ran and..."

Chris sniggered, he could just imagine such a conversation with JD talking a good half hour; poor Miles. Raising his hands in concession Chris nodded his understanding, "Okay...I get the point...I'm going to see if I can catch the news..."

The nightly soap and football were both passed over for the news and the men half watched as the anchor droned on about the happenings of the day, all 7 were glad to note nothing of any particular relevance to their specific area of Denver.

The news finished, followed by the weather, which promised blue skies and warmth unless you happened to be in the Bavarian Valley and then you could expect rain and fog as well as a drop in temperatures.

Joy.

Dinner came, was eaten, devoured, and the dishes placed outside the room neatly for collection and the discussion turned to getting ready to call it a night

Josiah had moved along the couch a little and now JD balanced on the opposite arm, his feet in the gap beside Josiah's lap. Buck had reclaimed his spot on the floor when JD had gotten up to use the bathroom, forcing JD's relocation. The ladies man was half paying attention to the conversations surrounding him and half eyeing the cheerleaders on the muted football game.

Ezra had disappeared up the hall half-way through dinner, stating that he was unable to eat anymore and was going to shower. He returned in relatively short time, donned in strangely basic black sweat pants and a dark green T-shirt, although Chris wouldn't be surprised if the unassuming outfit cost more than his whole suitcase of clothes, possibly including the suitcase itself.

Vin and Chris followed each other through the shower in about half an hour, both freshly warm and comfortable. JD had snagged Vins spare sweats and then used the shower after Chris. Nathan, Buck and Josiah put off showering until they returned to their own rooms later.

Ezra had been most pleased that the purple chalk really was water soluble as Miles had promised, glad when it washed of his neck and out of the material of his shirt which he had soaked in the sink while he had showered and performed his evening ritual. None of the others had been remotely concerned about the purple stains, although several had been secretly hoping that Vin would forget to wash his face.

Chris was happy with how the day had gone, the physical activity had been good after the lack of it over the past few days, and he knew that, if nothing else, they would sleep well tonight.

He hoped.

Looking down at the tracker, Chris was reassured that his night wouldn't be filled with hours of torture by harmonica.

They were both still in residence on Chris's bed, give that Ezra was still on Vins, but where Chris was leaning against the wall, feet stretched out across the mattress diagonally and crossed at the ankle Vin was on his stomach, one arm stretch up above him, grazing the wall by Chris's side, the other tucked underneath himself. One leg was pulled into a tight furl against his chest, the other half covered by the flap that the pillow belonged under when the bed was made properly. His hair was loose; a tangled mess that Chris would have to listen to him swear about in the morning...at the moment though, he appeared to be fast asleep.

Sensing the general relaxed sate of the room, the drowsy interest in each other's conversation and the lack of any real intent, Chris checked his watch and noting the 10:30 time stamp, turned the discussion to the following morning and it was decided that each of the men would have breakfast in their own room and them meet at the conference room at 10:30. Once the following day was sorted the men began to take their cues, Josiah said good night, and wrangled a pillow away from the sleeping Ezra, somehow without waking the southerner, bidding them a good night. JD dragged an unresisting Buck to his feet, and the pair nodded to Chris and Nathan, leaving the two to deal with their own sleeping roommates.

Chris turned to Nathan as he got managed to slide off the bed without disturbing Vin, no small feat considering how light a sleeper the tracker was, and decided that before he tried to vacate his own bed, he needed to vacate Vins. Nathan was already at the side of the other bed and was gently shaking the southerner, calling his name softly, until finally Ezra's eyes opened a slit and the younger man sat up groggily. His dazed state was not all a result of his sleep addled brain, and Chris asked, "How are you feeling Ezra?" at the same time that Nathan's hand came up to check his temperature.

His skin was still paler than it should be, but his coughing had lessened as the day had drawn on, until it had stopped altogether just before dinner, and Nathan was confident that they were starting to see the end of the lingering cold. He said as much to Chris as Ezra's baleful look reminded them that _'he was right here, thank you very much'. _ Chris grinned at the sulky look the younger man shot back at him as he was herded out the door by Nathan somehow managing to take several pillows back with him, despite the fact that they had never been from his room originally.

Chris grinned, shaking his head, and knowing that Vin only liked one pillow he tossed two of the remaining three pillows onto his own bed, grinning ruefully as he accidently brained the sleeping tracker with one of them. Vin was instantly awake, with a muffled, "Wha' the hell lar'bee!" as he turned towards his 'attacker'.

"Sorry Vin...you make a might too easy a targ..." his words dropped off, replaced with a stunned gasp as Vin rolled towards him, his blue shirt riding up on his left flank. Three strides and he was on the other side of the room, easing the befuddled Vin gently back down, hissing "Don't move...what the hell did you do to your side?"

Vins gaze didn't get any less confused and Chris's worry jumped up a notch and he spoke reassuringly, "I'm just gonna grab Nathan...don't move...I don't know what the hell ya did to cause that...but I don't wanna risk that you also did something to your back or neck..." before Vin could even get a word in edge wise Chris was up and out the door, tracking down the medic who'd just left.

As soon as the door was closed Vin sat up.

Pulling the left side of his shirt up, wondering what had his steadfast friend so spooked, Vin himself couldn't help but gasp as the answer was made clear.

Bruising that couldn't be more than a few hours old, but already a deep dark purple, shiny and stretched, almost black in places marred his left side, about an inch under his arm and travelling across his chest and under his shirt. A quick flick of more material revealed that it stopped in roughly the same place on his right side, although got steadily lighter as it progressed, indicating that the most force had been to his left flank.

Vin gently touched the bruise with his fingertips, and in that instant as if its discovery had made it real, searing pain travelled out from his feather light touch, and stifling a yelp he tugged his shirt back down, hiding the evidence of his and JD's mis-adventure.

The wall.

Chris chose that moment to walk back in. He stopped at seeing Vin sitting up on the bed, legs crossed and drawn up to his chest.

"I thought I told you not to move...what if you're all busted up inside?" he moved forwards again, leaving the door open behind him as he spoke, "Ran into Ezra in the hall, he'd dropped his pillows...he's going to get Nathan and make sure he brings his kit, and then they'll be in..."

Vin shook his head, not pleased with keeping the obviously tired Ezra out of bed, and not intending to cause Nathan any more worry, "No Chris..It's late...I don't want them worrying about me...it's nothing..."

Chris opened his mouth to argue but was cut off by Nathan answering as he entered the room, 'How about I decide if it's nothing...and since when is anything with you '_nothing_'' this Nathan, as opposed to the relaxed, tired man who had just left was all business, efficiently striding across the room to the bed. Ezra followed him in, moving to the table to place the med kit on the flat surface.

Vin grimaced at the growing number of witnesses to the coming intimacy, hating the thought of bothering the others even more when he saw Ezra's pale face and dark ringed eyes.

Ezra, as tuned as always, easily deciphered the look, "It is no bother Mr Tanner...I know you'd do the same for us if the situation deemed it necessary...now allow Mr Jackson to help you before Mr Larabee worries himself to death..."

Ezra ignored Chris's affectionate glare, turning back to his task of opening the med kit.

Vin looked from Ezra, to Chris and finally to Nathan and sighed as he let his legs drop to the bed, nodding.

Nathan smiled in satisfaction, knowing that the argument had Vin been in proper reticent Tanner mood, could have lasted a good while longer and gotten a fair bit more heated. The Vin of three years ago would have argued and spouted his "I'se fines" until he was blue in the face and half dead. This Vin was still likely to do just that on many occasions, but it seemed that tonight would be one of his more complacent patch up jobs.

Seeing as how the younger man was conscious, not bleeding, not adamantly insisting he was fine and in relatively good cheer Nathan didn't think he was badly hurt, and that this was probably just another case of Chris's mother hen tendencies that didn't get a lot of chance to shine. Sitting on the bed beside Vin, as gentle and undemanding as ever when dealing with one of his most difficult team members medically speaking Nathan asked, "Okay...what's wrong?'

Vin looked from Nathan to Chris and back again, wondering why the medic hadn't already forced his shirt up around his ears to poke and prod at him unimpeded. He replied with that thought in mind, "Chris didn't tell ya what he saw?"

Ezra snorted inelegantly, "All Mr Larabee intoned was that you were injured and that haste was necessary..."

Vin sighed, trying misdirection "It's just a bruise...ya really don't need to go pokin' an' proddn' me...I'se fine..."

Chris growled and Nathan sighed, Ezra shook his head in stilted amusement.

"Must have been a hell of a bruise to get Chris all riled up...best show me anyway..." Nathan said patiently.

Vin grimaced, but gave in, lifting his shirt up quickly, holding it for a second before dropping it as Ezra gasped, Chris growled again and Nathan gaped in shock.

The medic reached up and eased Vin into a horizontal position on the bed, saying, "Maybe you had best do what Chris said and don't move...you could have broken ribs or any number of messed up insides..."

Scowling Vin let himself be laid flat on Chris's bed, blushing under the intense scrutiny his chest was receiving as Nathan pulled his shirt back up, revealing the bruised area. "I'm going to try to see that you haven't done any real damage to your insides...uh-aaah...lie still...you're not going anywhere...What were you thinking...If I'd known you were hiding this earlier..."

Vin squirmed as Nathans cold fingers brushed his skin and Nathan half smiled as he pulled away for a moment, rubbing his hands together to warm then, listening as Vin replied, "I wasn't hiding it...I didn' even notice 'til Chris saw it when he woke me up..."

Nathan's smile fell as he pictured all sorts of pain blocking injuries, deadened nerves and other serious issues, clarifying "You didn't feel it...you don't know how you got it...it doesn't hurt?"

Vin tactfully answered only part of the question, "I didn' notice it earlier, in the shower that is, but...yeah...I's can tell ya that it hurts now..." Nathan sighed in relief, bringing his warmed fingers back to the bruised skin, glad when Vin didn't even flinch, from either cold or fear.

"What sort of pain...sharp, stabbing, dull...an ache...?" Nathan asked as he gently touched the right side of Vin's chest, focusing on his upper ribs, trying to rule out a crack or break.

Vin sucked in a breath, but managed an answer, "I didn't even feel it when I did it...but now it's Kinda like a wave of pain...it spreads an' gets worse where ya touch..." he hissed as Nathan moved his fingers.

Chris moved to stand at Vins head, one hand coming to rest on his shoulder as Nathan continued his probing, steadily moving into the deeper colours.

The worse the bruising became the more Nathan hated himself for the pain he was obviously causing, Vin stopped answering his questions; in fact he stopped making any noise at all, stifling all sound between tightly pressed lips, blue eyes hidden behind clenched lids.

It seemed to go on forever, Nathan's hands probing for tells of worse damage, causing pain in an attempt to stop pain. Finally he stopped, Vin was white as a sheet, sweating and his blue eyes watered as they opened, blinking rapidly to settle against the pain as their owner sought a familiar green gaze. Chris smiled softly as the blue eyes met his and he turned to Nathan for the verdict.

Nathan sat down heavily besides Vin, one gentle hand resting against damp brown tangles as he answered Chris..."With bruising that bad, I have no idea how he avoided breaking a rib...but as far as I can tell, he did..It's bad bruising, hurts like you wouldn't believe...but it's just bruising..."

Chris relaxed at the verdict and across the room; Ezra did the same, closing the unneeded med kit thankfully.

Vin rested where he lay for several minutes, the pain slowly diminishing until it barely remained to remind him of his motley coloured chest, until he slowly went to sit up, smiling softly at the two sets of hands that immediately moved to help him.

Vin smiled his thanks at Nathan, apologising softly, "I'm sorry I got you and Ez out of bed again...ya didn't need ta come after all...ain't even anything' wrong with me."

Nathan admonished gently as he stood, moving to gather Ezra again, "Vin...I wouldn't call.._ that_ nothing wrong with you...nor would I call finding no broken ribs a bad thing...I am very glad that it's just bruises...you don't have anything to be sorry for..."

Vin nodded softly as he got to his feet, moving slowly towards the bathroom, "Will ya accept thank you instead?"

Nathan agreed, "You're very welcome Vin...now you take it easy tonight...no pre-dawn jogging or midnight aerobics okay...come get me if you need me...have a good night's rest...you too Chris..."

Several other variations of good night passed between the four and then Nathan gently closed the door, guiding his half asleep roommate up the hall to his own bed.

Several minutes later Vin came out of the bathroom, crossing to his own bed, carefully lying down as Chris asked, "You sure you're okay...you don't need anything...I don't understand...How on earth could you _do_ something like _that_ and _not notice...?_"

Vin exhausted, still feeling the aftershocks of pain across his chest now that it had decided to wake up answered without thinking, as Chris had hoped he would, "I know ...I jus' jumped and landed...didn't feel a thing...didn't even notice unt...oh..."

Chris had heard the confession earlier when Vin had been speaking to Nathan, but hadn't wanted to bring it up when he was so obviously in pain, but now that things had settled again Chris had pushed the issue.

Oh, indeed.

"Got something you wanna share maybe... " Chris asked, his voice tightly controlled as he leaned on one arm to look across at Vin staring at the ceiling.

Decision made the only way that he could Vin answered, "Me and JD wanted to climb the wall... tha's where we were after we went to the kitchen with the Doc..."

Chris's anger leapt, and Vin could hear it in his voice..."And the fact that I'd already said no...and I meant no...goddamn thing was dangerous...you're lucky you only got bruises and not a broken neck..."

Vin hesitated unsure what to say to appease either his boss or his friend, not liking the disappointment he could hear, any more than the anger.

"It was downright reckless Vin...imagine if JD had gotten hurt...or you'd been hurt worse...I except better from you...both of you..." the blond all but growled.

Vin stared out the window, anger he could take, but shame and disappointment he didn't know how to handle.

"It was a goddamn near impossible climb anyway... if you'd killed yourself trying to do something that couldn't be done... " Chris hypothesised angrily.

Throwing caution to the wind Vin began to hum softly

Rolling onto his back Chris added..."I can't believe you'd pull such a fool brained stunt...well, actually I can...whose idea was it?"

Vin's humming got a bit louder.

Chris all but smirked as he said, "I should have seen it when the pair of you looked at the damn thing like it was made of gold when Miles told us what the task was..."

Vin turned to look at Chris, humming now audible in the room.

"I'll admit...it might be as much my fault as yours...you should have told me..."

Vin grinned as Chris turned to look at him again, humming several recognisable phrases.

Shaking his head in self disgust Chris queried, "Did you at least make it to the top?"

Vin nodded vigorously, humming through his open mouth.

"JD too?" Chris asked wonderingly.

This time Vins nod was proud, and he hummed the last few bars.

Rolling over to face the wall, back to the grinning Texan Chris flicked off the light, muttering, "If I'd known...I would have gone with you..."

Vin was silent at the undeniable envy in Chris's voice.

And then he softly began to sing.

"_Humpty dumpty sat on a wall..."_

A/N...Okay...finally the end of another chapter...this one weighs in at 50 pages...I had tons of fun writing it...even if things did get a little _frustrating_...please let me know if you appreciated my efforts (or if you totally didn't...) GRINS MADLY... finally...sleep *I have my priorities straight


	6. The Long Road Home

_**Psychobabble **_

_Disclaimer: If only..._

A/N – When I originally planned to write this fic I had a set course that it would follow and parameters to stick by...and now, five chapters in, that's all gone out the window. My Muse _will not_ let me write this as I had intended and so I am willingly admitting that this chapter is nothing like I wanted...I hope my loyal readers can understand this and still enjoy what is to be (most likely) the second final chapter in this works.

**Chapter 5: The Long Road Home**

The 'wall incident' as Miles had come to call it, seemed to have unlocked a door that he hadn't even realised existed, releasing a whole new set of parameters by which he judged and labelled the dynamics of team 7. They didn't follow the guidelines of leader/subordinate and certainly weren't wholly obedient to the higher status, let alone subservient. It answered many of Miles's questions, but also created a whole other sleuth of dilemmas in regards to his evaluative report.

_It is the honest belief of this physiatrist that Team 7's high capability level, unmatched results and unequalled performance can be, at least in part, correlated as a result of their complete lack of formal structure and hierarchical disorder._

_Dismissal of respect for higher authority and formal chain of command is required to replicate in other teams._

Miles could just imagine the government's reaction to _that_ particular recommendation.

He hadn't even bothered to mention that a level of respect that went beyond reasonable, and was relied upon above everything else, would have to be developed and nurtured among any team before any such imitation would be possible.

Not too dwell on the fact that familial ties would have to come onto existence where none had existed before.

_Miles had to wonder if the ATF brass had any idea what they were really asking to recreate._

* * *

><p>Friday; the morning after Miles had watched the two youngest members of team 7 flout the rules, generally disregard a spoken decision of their boss and accomplish a not only nigh on impossible but also highly dangerous task had been...interesting to say the least.<p>

Miles had no idea what he'd been doing all week, but it didn't seem to be until that Friday that he _truly_ met the magnificent 7.

They had arrived in the dining hall just before 8:30am, all seven of them this time, and it seemed that Vin and JD's transgressions had been discovered already...or perhaps confessed to. Whatever the case, Chris was obviously aware, although not visibly upset, if anything, he seemed a little bemused with the pair of them.

It had been Nathan who _was _upset.

From what Miles could garner of their conversation, Nathan had been required to apply some fairly mild first aid the evening before; he assumed Vin or JD were the recipients, soon confirmed to be the tracker, and whatever the injury, it didn't seem to be too serious; and so he let it lie as an inter-team issue. It seemed however, that in the lateness of the hour, the general fatigue of the previous day, and perhaps the sudden onset of concern, Nathan had neglected to find out the cause of the injury he had tended and thus had only found out when Buck and JD had joined himself, Vin and Josiah in Chris's room earlier that morning.

The ladies man had apparently also weaselled the tale, with great difficulty; Miles was sure, from young JD and had immediately launched himself at Vin in prideful congratulations upon entering the room. Which had caused a pained yelp and much wincing from the injured Vin, profuse apologising from Buck, and JD, tempered with guilt from both...which was quickly assured by Vin, as it was, to quote, '_his own damned fault..._' which had been seconded by Chris.

This statement, of course, had led to curiosity followed by disbelieving anger from Nathan. Who had still been treating the most apologetic Vin to the silent derision when they had entered the dining room. Miles had caught up on the story by following JD's exuberant retelling of the wall climb to all who would listen, mainly Josiah and Ezra, as well as Ezra's recounting of Nathan's ministrations of the evening before to both Josiah, JD and Buck.

The 7, 8 including Miles, had been halfway through breakfast before Nathan had moodily capitulated to Vin's soulfully pathetic face and woeful apologies. Caving with a '_why was I at all surprised by this'_ glance towards Chris who matched it with his own, Nathan shoved another roll onto Vins plate and muttered for him to 'eat up...before I take it out of your hide'. And as far as Miles could see, things had settled back down to normal.

Or whatever passed for normal where these men were concerned.

Breakfast concluded half an hour later, by which time Miles was sure that between them, Chris, Vin and Ezra had drank over two litres of coffee; it was a wonder that any of them could sit still for more than a second, with the amount of caffeine they had consumed.

Perhaps though, they had grown immune to the effects, Chris was as still and stoic as ever, yet tightly coiled tension writhed beneath the black clad skin, waiting for a reason to break free; not that Miles planned to be that reason. Vin was relaxed and calm, slouched in his seat, leaning back on the hind two legs, at risk of overbalancing, and yet not. Ezra, apparently feeling much better this morning, was enveloped in an easy tranquillity that Miles hadn't really seen in the past week, the discomfort of illness having perhaps masked this quiet strength.

Josiah, tempered with wisdom and strength that comes only from age and experience was as smoothly disposed this morning as he had been the past four, and Nathan was as solid as a rock, if a glowering one.

Buck of course, even without the help of masses of caffeine, was unbridled energy and movement, strong and confident, decidedly different to JD's matching exuberant fidgeting. The youngest was still pumped from his and Vin's mis-adventure the evening before and, if possible, seemed to be almost vibrating with pent up energy.

Suddenly Miles wasn't so sure that having the seven men cooped up inside all day was such a good idea.

* * *

><p>Knowing that today was the final day of his official observation, and not wanting to waste what little time he had left to explore the complexities he felt he was only just beginning to discover, Miles urged the team to their feet as soon as the final plate was scraped clean and led the way to the conference room, next door to the one that they had used previously in the week.<p>

* * *

><p>Entering the conference room, the seven men found, not a circle of seats as expected, but a long formal style table, deep mahogany hued wood, intricately carved and highly polished, easily capable of seating 12, if not more. Today though, only seven chairs were offered, evenly spaced out, three on each side, and one at the head of the table. The seven followed Miles gestured indication to sit, each pulling up a spot, Chris at the head, Buck on his right, Vin on his left, Ezra besides Vin and JD besides Buck, with Nate and Josiah nearing the opposite end of the table, the medic besides Ezra and Josiah, JD.<p>

Miles leant against the door frame, one hip hitched to the side, arms crossed over his chest as he spoke to the team. "Okay…You guys have been here a week, done just about everything I've asked of you with minimal issue or derision, for which I thanks you, I know that spending time with people in my line of work is not something that you guys enjoy, so I thank you for your co-operation…today is in fact the final day that I'll need to be observing and evaluating you…and as such, the weekend will be yours to spend as you please…in your rooms, by the pool or elsewhere in the resort, before you leave Sunday afternoon….." Miles saw several sets of eyebrows shoot up in excitement; he wondered how long it had been since these seven men had taken real, sanctioned leave from work as a whole team without there being some ulterior motive such as injury recovery or emotional stress or trauma.

Nodding at the questioning eyes Miles continued, "However, before that I ask for one more day of attention…the structure for today is different, it's all about tying up loose ends and getting an inside view…as such…I have some lovely questionnaires that I want you each to fill out this morning! " almost every team he had ever evaluated had grumbled or groaned at this announcement, and team 7 it seemed, was no different, although Miles did note that all their complaints were good humoured rather than genuine annoyance.

"Yes, yes…paper work!...Sorry guys…I've done my best to make it as un-bOrring as possible for you…so just have a go, no right answers, no wrong answers…just your honest opinion…again…if you'd prefer not to answer, please leave it blank rather than making up some untruth…" as he spoke Miles moved across the room to the desk against the window, similarly located as the one next door, and flipped the latch on the leather bag leaning against the wall. He pulled a handful of stapled booklets from the case and handed them to Josiah, indicating that he should take one and then hand the rest on.

Walking the perimeter of the table, offering a cup of pens and pencils to each of the men as he went, Miles explained the other component of the morning "While you guys are diligently working to fill in your questionnaires, behaving in an utmost serious and mature manner I am sure, I will be next door with Chris…as the leader of your little band of misfits, I need to have a little one-on-one chat…once we are done, I'll give Chris a little while to finish his questionnaire while we have lunch…and, I'm sure, engage in any number of distracting and disrupting shenanigans to keep Chris from completing his booklet…."

As the most likely culprits, JD looked at Buck and the both of them sniggered, Nathan's eye roll matched Chris's and Josiah's, Ezra raised one perfectly arched eyebrow and smirked and Vin looked between Miles and Ezra with a look akin to horror.

Shaking his head at their antics Miles concluded, "Okay…I think that's about it for now, Write your name on the front and just do your own work…no community answers or joint efforts if you can help it… Chris, if you will…we'll be heading next door…"

Chris nodded, placed his pen down on the blue questionnaire booklet, got to his feet and followed Miles out the room.

Opening the door to the room next door, Miles followed Chris in, pulling it closed behind him.

* * *

><p>The room itself was exactly the same in size and design as the other two they had used; however, the décor was something else entirely. The carpet was a thick dark brown, soft and warm, unlike the professional grey weave throughout the rest of the building. Heavy velvet curtains, a deep blue, darkened the room, giving it a stately, majestic feel. The honest to god, lit fireplace, lightened the atmosphere, rendering a glowing cheer and luxurious warmth. Two padded leather sofas, dark blue, adorned with pillows in lighter shades beckoned, separated by a small mahogany coffee table, covered with a spread of cakes and biscuit's. The far corner, hosted a table, home to a percolating coffee machine, a bar fridge, stocked with soft drink and a water dispenser.<p>

It was, as Miles called it, the 'Comfort Room'…specifically designed to put both parties at ease during a personal conversation.

Although impressed with the indulgence of the room, the thing that most comforted Chris though, was the small monitor on the desk besides the fireplace; in the grainy black and white image he could easily make out Josiah's huge frame and the back of Nathans' bowed head as he scribbled on his paper, as well as the other four seated in the room next door.

The camera had been one of Miles's more inspired idea's; the majority of the teams he evaluated were of military or law enforcement professions, highly strung, heavily reliant and overtly protective of each other. Generally they were also here for one of two reasons.

Either,

_A - The team were not getting along in a manner than was deemed suitable; tension was thick and tempers running high…and it was Miles's job to find the knot and untie it. _

_A.2– In this case, the camera was mainly for Miles – to ensure that the rest of the team didn't kill one another while he was involved in the one on one conversation._

Or

_B - The team had suffered some unspeakable tragedy or extremely unsettling event and was on tenterhooks, emotionally unstable and often unreasonably overprotective._

_B.2 –As such, the camera was for the person Miles had isolated in the 'comfort room' – a link to the rest of the team._

As it were, neither situation applied to Team 7, but Miles still caught the unfettered relief as Chris's gaze settled on the monitor, after all; Chris Larabee was always unreasonably overprotective.

Watching as Buck nudged JD's smaller form with his shoulder, blatantly trying to get a look at the kids paper, Vin chewed on the end of his pen and Ezra scrawled something with an extravagant flourish that was in no way necessary, except if you were Ezra. Nathan's head was tilted to the left as he debated something with Josiah. Chris shook his head in indulgent affection and turned back to the patiently waiting Miles.

Miles leaned back into the comfortable sofa, bringing one leg up to rest across his other, ankle resting on his knee, his body language relaxing and non-threatening as possible. "Help yourself to tea or coffee, and, as you can see the Kitchen staff have outdone themselves…" he gestured to the slices and cakes spread across the table between them, taking something that looked remarkably, chocolaty.

Chris followed his example and chose a lemon tart, sinking his teeth into the sourly sweet gel as Miles continued, "So, I'm assuming that Orrin Travis himself, chose you to head up team 7…quite an honour…were you part of the ATF before that?"

Chris's shrewd green gaze met his, assessing the structure of this individual observation, and decided that the informal 'conversational' format was something that he could tolerate, Miles really was quite resourceful.

"I wasn't a member of the ATF before heading up team 7, …I had previous military and law enforcement experience, but gave it up when I married Sarah….I knew Orrin through Sarah…she was best friends with Mary Travis, Orrin's daughter…Orrin approached me about heading up my own team, directly beneath his authority and I agreed, on the proviso I chose my own team….I'm not so sure it should be considered an honour though…maybe a curse…or punishment? " he grinned and tilted his head at the monitor, indicating Buck's headlock of JD, Vins seeming argument with Nathan and Ezra's cross-eyed look at Josiah.

Miles smiled back, understanding the hidden recognition of what an honour Chris really believed leading these men was. Nodding, he reached for a second piece of cake as he voiced his next query, "Okay…so you personally chose your men…how'd ''that lot'" he gestured his head at the screen, continuing, "Come about…not exactly your usual run of the mill ATF team…"

Chris wandered across to the coffee station, as he answered, a look of fond recollection on his face, "Run of the mill they are not…which is part of the reason some of them ended up in my 'possible' file to begin with….I didn't see the point creating a highly motivated and above par team structure only to fill it with average parts…so I was on the lookout for 'unique individuals' as Ezra puts it."

Miles stifled a grin at the "Ezra aires" that Chris had unconsciously assumed while mimicking the younger agent, and replied, "Well they certainly are that…Buck was your friend from well before the ATF…and he served with you as well…so you must have known him well enough to know that he was what you wanted…how about the others, how did you come across them?"

Chris sank back into his seat, sipping the velvety coffee thoughtfully, glancing at the screen again before speaking "Josiah was an ATF relic…he'd joined at an older age than usual and those at the desks pushing papers saw the 50+ age on his sheet and automatically assigned him trivial assignments…I ran into Josiah when he delivered some open case files to our office…and I mean literally ran into…he mowed me flat… we got to talking…long story short; I did some checking, saw his certifications, experience and field reports as well as his eval's and knew that I wanted him…Orrin wasn't sure…I think he was expecting some frail old man…but once he met Josiah he was much more supportive...got the ball rolling and that was that…"

Miles nodded, glancing at the muscled bulk that was the ex-preacher, fully able to understand the situation. Not willing to waste Chris's seeming verbosity, Miles continued, saving his more extensive evaluations for later, "Who was next?"

Chris settled more deeply, hands steeped around his mug as he thought back, making sure the order was accurate, "Nathan…A week into our first case, Buck took a pretty decent gash to his leg…at the ranch of all places, completely unrelated to work…Josiah and I took him to the general hospital …Nathan, then a paramedic, was at the hospital to pick up his girlfriend Raine at the end of her shift…an hour later and Buck had twelve stitches in his leg, with at least 8 to go…Josiah was off in search of coffee and I was keeping Buck from pestering the nurses in the emergency room…when two crack crazed teenagers burst into the room…carrying machine guns of all things….It was obvious after only a few minutes that we weren't going to be able to talk them down…so I took the leader of the group down….which upset the other….Nate took him down with a scalpel…the only bullet holes were in the ceiling and everyone walked away scathe free….I recruited Nathan the next day… "

Miles leant back from his avid listening position, eyes finding the medic's figure in the monitor, a strange sense of disbelief replacing his professional persona. Of the seven, Nathan was the one he couldn't imagine in the field. For all that the African American was a big man, young, fit and undeniably courageous; Miles had only been exposed to his caring, protective side…which Nathan seemed to wrap around the team like some invisible security blanket. In his mind Miles was more than aware of the dangers that were posed to those in law enforcement careers, and the types of skill and abilities one would have to possess, but he still couldn't picture Nathan as anything other than the gentle protector that he had seen the past week. Chris's revelation made him consider the truth of the matter; that any one of these seven men was dangerous in his own right, and together, a power not to be reckoned with.

It made him glad that he was on Chris Larabee's good side.

Not 100% sure what to say in reply, or if a reply was even necessary, Miles just indicated that Chris should continue.

Sipping his coffee, Chris did so, a smile ghosting across his face as he explained, "JD was next…He was barely 20…created all sorts of problems with the higher ups, him being so young…We didn't actually find him per say, more that he found us…we were discussing a case in the Saloon…our bar …talking about the fact that we just couldn't catch a break, the perp was always one step ahead of us…then bold as brass, this young pup strolls over…summer job, table waiting I think…hands Buck his backpack, slides out a laptop and proceeds to do any number of highly complicated and borderline illegal searches…told us the name of the perp, where he was right then and where he would be at 6pm Friday evening…and then went back to wiping down tables…."

Miles was grinning at the reminiscent dumbstruck look on Chris's face; the blond was obviously recalling his own initial reaction. Miles could just imagine how JD's unsolicited 'assistance' had gone down among most of the men present. Leaning forward Miles asked, "So…was he right?"

Chris shook his head at the memory, "We blatantly disbelieved him, thought he was some young upstart tech student from the U…which he was…but he was also much more that that…It was Monday at this stage, and we just ignored his interference as bragging garbage, turning to other informants and methods…by Friday afternoon however, we were no closer…and it was Buck who brought the kids idea up again…we decided to give it a go due to lack of better, or any, other options. Well…JD was right. Collared and caught…we spent the next two days trying to locate JD…not even sure if he was out of high school yet. I swear he looked that young…eventually we managed to get an email address for him…Buck sweet talked it from the receptionist. We sent JD an invite to a job interview…as my personal assistant…"

Miles guffawed at the obvious prank, wondering how the hot tempered, but remarkably sweet young man had responded to such a slight against his abilities; he indicated that Chris should continue with fervour borne of avid interest.

Chris pulled the chair a bit closer to the table, wondering at the sudden ease he was rambling with; although not opposed to talking when he had to, Chris found that taciturn silence suited his reputation as 'lean and mean' much better. Miles was just a secure presence, and so very easy to talk to…which found Chris concluding his tale of JD's arrival, "The kid turned up for the interview…we were expecting him to offended at the obvious dismissal of his real skills, but I'll be damned if he wasn't on cloud nine with just the offer of being team 7's glorified coffee boy….he thought we were pranking him when we told him that we wanted him as a bonafide member of the team…our 'tech expert'….and that's how JD came to be the ATF youngest ever agent…"

Miles had to grin at the obvious pride in Chris's voice, and the gleam of – exhilaration in the green gaze. It was plain to see that Chris thought the world of 'his men'…and Miles was beginning to understand why.

Looking to the future of this team, hurdles and bumps in the road notwithstanding, Miles wondered at where the paths they had chosen would lead; he said as much to Chris…"From what I've seen of JD this week you were certainly lucky to stumble across him before the ways of the world separated him from his youthful exuberance…he has great role models and an important occupation…I hope I'm around to know him in 10-15 years' time…he will be a force to be reckoned with…you all will, in fact…although…as 'Black Larabee'…there's no doubt you already are…"

Chris snorted indelicately, "Huh…10-15 years from now the only thing I'm going to be is old! You may be right though…I have a feeling that JD will be one of the ATF's best in the not too distant future…if he lives that long…" Chris indicated the monitor showing the group next door.

Buck had JD on the floor, and was digging him in the side with a pen….

Ezra was counting… something, occasionally touching some random part of his body, and it was only when he tapped his left ankle twice that Chris realised it was probable that the southerner was counting injuries.

Vin appeared to be asleep, and Chris wondered if the younger man's dyslexia was playing up, giving him a headache.

Josiah was busy writing away, seemingly deeply engrossed in his questionnaire, although his gaze swept fondly between Vin and the two wrestling on the floor.

Nathan was saying something to Ezra, to which Ezra nodded and tapped his right shoulder.

Chris sighed, sitting up straighter, a pensive, slightly sad look crossing his face as he turned back to Miles, "I suppose you've heard most of Ezra's story?"

Miles knew, despite Chris's calm persona, that this was one topic he needed to tread carefully, he remembered the protective reaction from the very first night. Choosing his words carefully, he replied, "I remember what little they played on the news…about an alleged corruption within the FBI…I also remember than an agent had been injured…Ezra? "

Chris nodded, "Yes, Ezra had been undercover with a drug ring for almost 6 months…deep cover, extremely covert…this gang wasn't one to be trifled with…a hint that Ezra was anything other than a dropkick…he be better off dead….the case was going nowhere…apart from Ezra being able to infiltrate. The Feebs had been trying to get a mole in for years…and they hadn't been anywhere near successful…until Ezra. "

Chris stared at the monitor, mind obviously in a much darker place than the muted laughter and shenanigans of next door as he continued, "When Ezra goes undercover…he _really_ goes undercover…immerses himself, _becomes_ the cover…its why he's as good as he is…and he _is _very good….but, as most of the people he becomes are…well…the dregs of society…Ezra made himself _thoroughly unlikable…_and that was the persona that came across as corrupt…it was all complete and utter bullshit of course_._"

Miles startled at the abrupt change in tone and volume, he could tell that Chris was still pissed over whatever had happened in Atlanta, just from these few words, and as Chris explained, Miles, growing steadily angrier himself, realised that Chris had very good reason to hate the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Atlanta branch.

"Ezra was in deep…"Chris started, "really deep…possibly as deep as he'd ever been…much deeper than was safe…especially without decent back up…and someone to pull him kicking and screaming from the cover…he never had that in Atlanta…he was always on his own…said he preferred it that way…but that's bullshit too…"

Chris's face was blank, and Miles didn't dare interrupt, he was 99% sure that this was the first time Chris had spoken openly about his true feelings regarding Ezra Standish. Chris continued, "ATF got involved when one of our gun running cases merged with the drug cartel…and we agreed to share the limelight with the FBI for the sake of a collar…"

Again Chris snorted derisively, "We didn't have all the details either…only what the FBI gave us, one of the worse mistakes I have ever made was not pulling rank and taking lead…If it hadn't been for Ezra…a lot of people would have died that day…The FBI neglected to mention that this drug cartels boss was also the FBI's 3rd most wanted…they hoped to catch him themselves by leaving us in the dark, and claim all the glory…but this guy was dangerous, _really really_ dangerous….and completely above our pay grade…but we took him…well… Ezra took him…and a bullet to the right shoulder that had been intended for one of the FBI agents…."

A deep growl low in Chris's throat accompanied the next piece of information, and Miles knew that this was what had pissed the man off most, "They also neglected to tell us they had a man under…apparently they were concerned that he was dirty…and this is the real kicker…they assumed that he was dirty because he managed to infiltrate the inner family circle of this drug ring when no one else had cracked the shell…he was dirty because he was too good…."

Chris could see the genuine interest on Miles face, the disbelieving anger that anyone could be treated the way Ezra had, and continued, spilling some of the anger he had carried about this situation for a long time, in the interest of inter-agency cooperation. "During the end of the 'buy' as we were taking down the cartel members, this agent accused Ezra of being dirty, out loud, in front of the cartel members…not only levelling one of the worst insults a cop can receive…but also revealing the fact that Ezra was a mole to the people he had just brought down….well, all hell broke loose…Ezra took a bullet intended for the bigmouth agent…and was then arrested as being dirty and having tipped off the cartel about the bust!"

"His FBI 'brothers' were actually going to let him be carted away in cuffs and locked up with the drug runners he'd just destroyed…I knew he wasn't dirty…no dirty cop protects his accuser like that…with that level of…dedication…so I stepped in…we took him to the hospital…helped him break from his cover…and _ that_ was not easy…one moment he was this repulsive, sleazy prick…and then he was acidic tongued, sarcastically charming, endearing Ezra that we all know.. "

The 'and love' was silent, but Miles heard it anyway.

Smiling, he pulled the rest of the tale form the Team 7 leader, "well…how did Ezra go from being the FBI black sheep to being one of the Magnificent 7?

Chris nodded, "Once the whole story was heard, including several lots of evidentiary security footage and eye witness accounts, Ezra was completely cleared, and then, without even a 'good job', or 'sorry' they pulled out the next case file,…FBI's 2nd most wanted and put it on the table…and told him to get to work…"

Miles stared in disbelief, urging Chris to complete the unbelievable story, which the blond did, "Ezra quite literally told them to …well…It wasn't anything I've heard from Ezra's mouth since… We'd already convinced him that ATF was better than FBI as far as the alphabet brigade went…and that he definitely need at team to stop shit like that happening…Actually…I don't think we really gave him a choice….funny thing was that in an attempt to get him to stay…seems the FBI realised what an asset they were losing. They promoted him, paid him a large bonus, and credited him with the 3rd most wanted collar…but Ezra, once his mind is made up….and that was how we became six."

Miles wasn't sure that he completely understood what had gone down surrounding Ezra's joining of the team, whether it was because it was classified, personal or just unimportant; but he knew a dismissal when he heard one, whatever else there was to the whole sorry situation, he wouldn't hear from Chris Larabee. Whatever the case, Ezra had ended up on a team that supported him, carded for him when he didn't want to be cared for, helped when he didn't need help and backed him up when he was just fine on own…and was especially there when he needed them to be.

"Okay…so, that just leaves Vincent right?"

Chris placed his now empty cup on the table between them and turned to stare into the golden red hues of the gently smouldering fireplace. Without shifting his gaze Chris began his last explanation of its kind ,"Vin…it's just Vin….and well…Vin was just the top file in my 'Maybe' pile…..."

Miles started, not expecting such a simple, bOrring explanation; particularly not after the other 5 members interesting, if not exiting, stories. His bark of disbelief pulled Chris's attention from the fire, and Miles asked his question, "What! Simple as that…no mystery or mayhem…just…a file?"

Chris smirked, leaning back as he nodded, explaining, "The top file in my 'maybe' pile was a young man who had been a sniper with the Army rangers, a certified tracker and bounty hunter… he was perfect for what we needed. I organised to have him placed for a probationary 3 months…He turned up Monday morning, just before eight, and Buck had his entire life story from him before lunch. He was sick of the life on the run, constantly alone; chasing men who were the worst of the worst...he wanted out of the bounty hunting life. Went from hunting a bounty Friday to being a federal employee Monday… the bounty he gave up was a seriously deranged felon…the psycho had 'killed 'several men, including the grotesque butchering of an innocent store keeper and no one had come close to capturing him despite the price on his head, 10million dollars, dead or alive…the bounty's name was Vin Tanner"

Whatever Miles had been expecting to hear this obviously wasn't it; he bolted upright in his seat, exclaiming, "Vin…as in your Vin! A wanted killer? I can't believe it…in fact I don't believe it…"

If Miles thought Nathan Jackson was a gentle person, then he would consider Vin Tanner to be a gentle soul. Sure, different to Nathan, Miles could easily see that Vin could be dangerous, _very_ dangerous if provoked…but only into righteous anger…a vilified murderous fiend, never! Wanting to know details behind the unbelievable introduction Miles asked, "Okay. One thing at a time. Who was your applicant…and how did Vin end up on the team….?"

Chris, helping himself to another slice, obliged the doctor's avid curiosity, "Gregory Sinclair was the applicant, 29 years old or so...and convinced that if he tried to take Tanner in he'd end up missing a few fingers or an ear…or his scalp….so he wanted out, and he wanted out now. So, he ended up on our team for several weeks, and we all promptly forget about Tanner who was nothing to us…we were working on a case that still disturbs me…trying to stop a bootlegging operation, but this family was…twisted…I'm talking inbred, bucktoothed, Uncle Jimmy-ray and Aunt Sally-May type situation…children barely out of diapers with babies of their own…"

Miles nodded, he understood what Chris was talking about; he'd evaluated enough Law enforcement personal to have heard all sorts of horror stories, he indicated that Chris should go on.

The blond nodded, continuing "Ezra was undercover and Buck was the 'buyer'…Greg was just air support…but somehow he ended up in the thick of things…a rope wrapped round his neck…they we set on lynching him…none of us could get to him in time, and then, 'CRACK'…rifle shot…and Greg is on the ground, and this wild haired, leather jacket and cowboy boots guy just waltzes through the bust, taking out perps and lending a helping hand to our team…"

Miles already knew who Chris was talking about, and he could fully imagine the scene in his head, bullets flying every which way, men on the ground and in bloody fistfights…shouting…chaos…and Chris Larabee was too busy watching Vin walk through the mayhem to notice anything else. "When did you work out who he was?" he asked of Chris.

Larabee grinned at the question, "Well. There was the clean-up; JD had been grazed and Ezra had a twisted ankle…not mention Greg's throat was pretty raw…so we're on the way to the hospital and Greg was looking steadily and steadily more sick…white as a sheet and shaking type of sick. Shock…so I asked if he was okay…I mean almost getting hung…not a nice experience…he splutters at me, 'Th-that guy! He…' and I said something about how lucky it was that he was around…and that we would have to track him down later to get his statement… and that was when Greg all but whimpers out "But that…th-that was Vin Tanner!"

Chris paused for dramatic effect; granted, both men had already known it was Vin, but the scene was still had powerful impact. Miles was starting to see the story come together, but wasn't sure how they could possible get from Vin Tanner : Wanted Felon, to Vin Tanner: ATF Agent.

Chris went on, "The guys got to thinking…and so did I…why would a murderous psycho like Vin Tanner come to the rescue of not only us, but one who had been hunting him…it was a contradiction of personalities…and so…we began to do a little _digging…._"

Miles smirked at the lowly voiced word; he'd be willing to bet that any _digging _they had done was slightly less than legal, although he was hardly surprised. He gestured for Chris to continue.

"Vin Tanner, birthdate unknown, estimated early to mid-twenties…Us Army ranger, sniper and tracker, honorary discharge. Turned to bounty hunting…success rate 100%...turned rogue…was after a bounty named Eli Joe…Eli Joe got away, destroyed his perfect record…Vin Tanner tortured and butchered innocent store keeper Jessie Kincaid in retaliation…and became wanted himself…"

Chris was very still as he recounted the information robotically, obviously memorised and repeated at some stage in the past. Miles internally sighed; for whatever reason Chris still harboured feelings of discomfort and guilt associated with the circumstances surrounding Vins joining of the team…if he had more time he may be able to help the man work through it, he felt he was beginning to get a full understanding of this particular team that not many ever did.

As things stood, he had a job to do; but looking once again at the green eyes that stared beyond the room, into the golden peals of the fireplace; Miles decide that they had time for a brief detour.

It was what he did. Helped people understand, accept and heal.

"Chris." His voice was soft and firm, and for the first time since he had met them, Miles Weston became the psychiatrist, rather than just the observer. He had a presence all of his own, not as demandingly quiet as that of Chris Larabee, but present and secure all the same…it drew Chris's gaze to him now. "It's obvious even to me, that man," he gestured to the monitor where Vin was poking Ezra in the side, "bears you nothing but respect, loyalty and affection…whatever guilt lingers in the memory that you hold of his joining the team…it is yours…and yours alone…you should try to forgive yourself…for his sake…and if you can't…you should talk to him about it…"

Chris just stared at him for a moment, still fiery green gaze caught on his and Miles wondered if this was what it was like to spontaneously combust; roast from the inside out. He briefly considered apologising if he'd overstepped his mark by giving the unsolicited advice, but immediately decided against it…it was in his nature to give unsolicited advice…he was a psychiatrist after all.

Finally Chris nodded once, neither agreeing, nor disagree…just an acknowledgment of his efforts and the leader looked again to the screen that monitored the group next door. Only to have his green gaze snared by electric blue.

Miles had no doubt that eye contract _was_ being made, despite the 2 foot wall between the two men, and he had to swallow thickly as Vin finally nodded in approval an dropped into a smirking slouch, nudging JD and indicating the direction of the camera. JD just nodded, as if he'd known all along…which he may well have.

Miles had hardly concealed the camera, but still, very few had put it together so efficiently.

He was distracted from thoughts of the impossible by Chris jumping into the conclusion of his explanation, "Even with his background story…or maybe because of it…nothing made sense…so we dug a little further…and pulled the Eli Joe case file….Eli Joe was convicted of raping, torturing and murdering 9 men…all between the ages of 16 and 25, he was being transported to a maximum security facility after his trial when he escaped…Vin of course…despite being the bastards exact demographic, decided to go after him and bring him in…only things didn't go as planned and…well…you heard the result before…"

Miles nodded, hopping to encourage Chris to finish because he was desperate to know how they sorted the whole mess out, thankfully Chris seemed to understand this and added, "Well…Ezra had only read through the Eli Joe file for about two minutes before he was spitting fire about it being a frame job…and a 'positively pathetic attempt at that!' and as soon as we looked at the bare facts…it was plain as day…Eli Joe's MO was all over poor Jessie Kinkaid and Vin Tanner had never even brought one of his bounties in dead…let alone murder out of pure temper…and so we hunted and apprehended Eli Joe…got a confession out of him… tracked down Vin…spent three and a half days trying to get him to trust us enough to come in…and the rest, as they say…is history."

Mikes doubted very much, that anything was 'history' but was pleased with the conclusion of the tale, of course, having read their files Miles was largely aware of the basic rundown of each agent…but hearing it from Chris's point of view was much more enlightening than from a piece of paper.

"And so you became 'The Magnificent 7'… "Miles teased gently.

Chris had the good grace to appear a little chagrined by the lavish title, but then; they'd hardly given it to themselves…and, by most standards it was richly deserved.

Miles reached for another slice of cake, thinking that he may need to follow Vins example of a morning run to lose the weigh he was likely piling on. He chewed and swallowed before asking, "And now you lead the ATF team that has the highest bust record, lowest loss rate and a healthy reputation…how do you manage that…I mean, from what I've seen…you're well and truly one of the guys…yet you're also the leader, the 'Authority'".

Miles had seen many, many teams over the past few years at Max's and one of the strongly defining similarities in all the 'high functioning' groups had been the clearly outlined structure of 'boss/employee'; it was what made those teams so strong…format, structure; obedience and respect for Authority.

Until team 7. Miles had no doubt that Chris had all the Authority that he needed over the other men, but what puzzled him was how had Chris achieved it and then maintained it. More often than not Leaders held themselves above their subordinates for that exact reason; to create a line, a higher power than one was awarded amongst friends and family. Miles sought to understand how Chris had achieved the same, if not better result whilst immersed in his team.

He continued, trying to get his question across, "You don't let the fact that you're their boss keep you from socialising and befriending the employees beneath you…."

It was here that Chris broke in, "They're not…" at Miles question eyebrow Chris elaborated, "They're not beneath me… when I formed this team I didn't want it to be a 'me' and 'them' type situation as I've seen arise in other teams…it would always be 'us'…we walk the line I suppose…I'm more like one of the team than the boss…but it also washes over to our private life as well. I know that even in matters not related to work the guys still look to me for advice, guidance…and yes, sometimes permission…it just seems to be the flow we have struck; and be it right or wrong…it works for us."

Miles had wondered at that, the way Chris was so very close to each member of his team, but understood now that Chris preferred loyalty borne of friendship and honour than of subservience and obedience. It also made him wonder why more teams hadn't cottoned on to how much stronger the carrot could be…than the whip.

Already contemplating exactly how to word this into his report Miles glanced at his watch and saw that they'd been in here over two hours, and knew that the natives were probably getting restless; the questionnaires could only hold their attention so long before general chaos erupted, and looking at the monitor Miles was not surprised to see the neat pile of paper at the head of the table, nearest Josiah.

Nathan was seated beside the older man, his head propped up on one hand as he stared towards the other end of the table; where JD and Buck seemed to be tag teaming Vin in a game of 'pen fencing'… with Ezra no doubt offering commentary.

Knowing that the kitchen staff had been tasked with delivering lunch in the next half hour some time, Miles turned back to Chris, saying "Unless there is something else you wish to discuss…lets head next door before your sniper loses an eye… you can start your questionnaire while I entertain the troops with evidence of their misdeeds."

Chris cracked a grin, getting to his feet alongside Miles and they headed for the door.

* * *

><p>As they had entered the conference room, Chris had only just managed to save Miles from being impaled by a flyaway pen courtesy of Buck, and once the pen was in his hand, he had been deemed suitably armed and had been forced to defend against JD and Vin. It took only minutes for them both to die horrible deaths, staggering about the room, bleeding copious amounts of invisible blood and lunging into dramatic death throws.<p>

Chris blew across the top of his 'sword', which had conveniently become a pistol at some stage of the fight and dropped down into the seat at Nathan's left, reaching for his booklet. He looked to where Buck was tearfully bemoaning the loss of Vin, sobbing brokenheartedly into the heaving trackers chest. Vin was having trouble 'staying dead' rather than giggle and snort hysterically…partially because Bucks fingers may have been getting a little creative along his ribs from time to time.

Chis was glad for Vins ability to completely let go and be himself; he still remembered the shy, withdrawn young man they had first met…unable to trust them despite having a bullet wound to his leg and being somewhat 'stuck' up a tree. Surprisingly, or perhaps not, it had been Ezra's gentle coaxing that had finally gotten the ex-bounty hunter to give them a chance, and thankfully none of them had looked back since.

JD of course, chose this moment to sit up from his 'death sprawl' and loudly bemoan the fact that he was dead and no one even cared. This set Ezra off, waxing lyrically about their youngest team member until JD was red in the face, despite not having understood a word of it.

Chris reluctantly turned to his questionnaire, allowing Miles to clap his hands to get the rest of the team's attention. "Right guys…until lunch arrives and Chris finishes up…I've got a little exercise that you should enjoy…", seeing the men's nods of agreement Miles went on to explain, "I call this one, 'Sleeping logs…if you'll all find a space in the room, away from each other preferably…and sit down on the carpet…'"

Miles grinned at Ezra's affronted look, but a raised eyebrow and a snicker from Vin had the southerner sinking into a graceful cross-legged position, which Miles doubted he could mirror. Seeing that the other five had also followed his instructions Miles added, "Okay…now this is just a little friendly completion…there will be a prize…..the winner is the last to move his body and talk…so, if you'll all become logs….lie down…that's it…and the game starts now!"

Silence reigned.

No one moved.

Miles wandered across to sit at the table, a chair or so up from where Chris was diligently scrawling away.

Blissful peace and quiet.

Chris glanced up at the sudden silence, startled to see his men all lying on the floor; he glanced at Miles, eyebrow raised.

Miles just grinned, raised a finger to his mouth and 'shushed' him, indicating the men on the floor.

Chris looked at him for a moment and then shrugged, turning back to his paper. No way was he going to be the once to tell his men that they had just fallen for one of the oldest tricks in the book…hell, he'd used this exact same technique on Adam a time or two, when the rambunctious five year old had way too much energy for Chris to keep up with.

Miles turned his attention from Chris back to the men spread across the room in various states of relaxation and hyper still awareness. He suspected that some, if not all of his men were aware of the activities dual nature, but either the competitive streaks that ran a mile wide or the promise of a few quiet, relaxed moments stayed their tongues and stifled their complaints.

Ezra, appearing for all intents and purposes, no less dignified than he would be lounging on a fine deck chair; head half propped against the wall, eyes closed in an expert rendition of sleep. He was still a little pale and flushed in the cheeks, but appeared to be in a better state of health that Miles had seen since the team's arrival.

Along the wall a meter or two, Josiah was leaning back, legs crossed with more than decent flexibility for one his age. His large hands were settled calmly on his knees and his eyes closed; he wasn't dozing though, Miles was pretty sure he was meditating.

Buck and JD had taken the cleared area in the middle of the carpet, towards the doorway. Both lay ramrod staring, hand by their sides and feet together in a bizarre position of horizontal attention. Miles could tell that these two were 100% conscious of every breath the other took, each determined to be the 'winner'. Miles was pretty sure that if one of them should move or talk the other would sit up with a glorious cry of victory, having forgotten that there were more than just the two of them participating in the activity.

The medic was by the far wall, beneath the open window. Differing from the others, Nathan had stretched out on his stomach, head turned to one side and pillowed on his arms. Miles knew that this was by and far the most comfortable and secure position one could adopt when asked to lie on the ground for long periods of time. Nathans fingers twitched slightly, and although, technically he was disqualified, Miles didn't raise the alarm.

Panning his gaze back towards the table Miles settled on the last member of team 7 currently decked out of the floor of his conference room. He would speculate and observe Vin's behaviour and position more but the only thing visible was the mans booted feet. The rest of the tracker disappeared under the table and into the shadows.

Looking at the lazily crossed feet, the heel of one boot resting angularly against the other, Miles looked up to gauge how Chris was fairing with his questionnaire, knowing that lunch would be arriving soon, only to find that the blonds attention wasn't on his blue booklet at all.

Chris had pushed the pen and paper towards the completed pile and leant back in his seat; his green gaze now resting on the floor, about two feet under the table edge; about where Miles estimated Vin Tanner's head would be. There was no noise, no chatter or laughter but Miles could see that the two were communicating. It was confirmed when Chris suddenly grinned and then mock glared, making a soft jerking movement. One of Vins boot slipping of the other with a soft 'thud' revealed that Chris had obviously nudged the tracker with his foot.

JD promptly sat up and announced that Vin was out because he'd moved and then slapped a hand over his mouth and slumped back to the ground. It was too late though and within second Buck was roaring with laughter and slapping his knee as he rolled to a sitting position.

JD, face crimson but smiling also sat up, shaking his head in self-disgust.

Vin didn't move, but Josiah did; groaning and creaking as he straightened his legs and got to his feet saying, "Oh…ow…Seems my old bones stayed in the same position a touch too long…"

Nathan's head popped up, only to be met with a rare shit-eating grin from his oldest friend.

"Damn" JD exclaimed as Nathan glared good naturedly at Josiah, "I guess Ezra wins then…I think he's asleep though…so maybe that's cheating.."

Ezra's green eyes popped open and he surged to his feet, "I assure you Mr Dunne, I have no need to cheat…patience is my game…a gentlemen of chance such as I has such ample reserves of skill and talent that I find no recourse in cheating… "

JD groaned as he sprung to his feet, offering a hand to Buck, he took it only to yank JD to the floor again as he got up.

JD's squawk of "Buck!" was ignored as the door opened and the kitchen staff wheeled in a trolley layered with assortments of hot finger food and sandwiches, a second with several soft drinks and juices followed. Miles indicated that they should leave it off to the side of the room.

The kitchen staff departed and Miles turned back to the men, "Help yourselves…" before fetching his own can of drink and mini hotdog and returning to sit at the table.

They didn't need to be told twice.

Buck and JD rushed towards the food trolley, elbowing each other out of the way and very nearly managing to barrel Josiah over, which, considering Josiah's girth was no small feat. Nathan's growled 'careful' was drown out by JD's tribal war cry as he descended on the rations. Ezra decided it was safer to approach the drinks trolley first and liberated himself an orange juice, as well as the iced tea that Nathan requested.

Chris scooted his chair back and the leaned down saying to Vin, who was still under the table, "Out Vin…otherwise you'll be trapped by legs…and I'll be forced to eat your lunch rather than let it go to waste…"

Two seconds later a solid 'Thunk' reverberated through the room, followed by a filthy curse that almost made Chris blush as he moved towards the lunch trolley. Buck sniggered as he made his way back to the table, JD reached for another pie to compliment the three already in his hands, Nathan shook his head in exasperation, Josiah looked back at the table over his shoulder and Ezra winced in sympathy.

Buck sat down in the seat opposite where Chris had vacated, placing his lunch on the table and then leaned to the side to peer under the table, "Need a hand Vin?" he offered; at the muffled, 'much 'bliged' Buck stuck his paw under the table with a cheery grin. Two smaller hands gripped his in a monkey grasp and Buck heaved his arm back, smoothly sliding Vin out from beneath the table.

"Damn Junior!...ya sure wacked yourself a good one…here.." sliding it from beneath his lunch he pressed his slightly warm, oil smeared napkin against Vins forehead, high above his left eye, staunching the slow trickle of blood from the small cut. Vins hands came up to take possession of the napkin, and the tracker nodded in agreement of Bucks assessment before groaning at the stupidity of the move.

Chris looked back from the lunch trolley, watching carefully as Vin got to his feet, the slim figure swayed for a second before he grasped the offending table edge and moved to half lean/ half sit on the table. He didn't say anything, just turned back to the lunch trolley and began to gather a second helping of 'vitals'.

Nathan placed his own lunch in the space beside Buck and then rounded Buck to stand in front of the still slumped tracker. Gentle hand swatted Vins own away and removed the napkin, accompanied by the not so gentle voice , "Really, that's very hygienic. Why eat fat when your body can just absorb it, along with, oh...a billion bacteria. I do wonder sometimes...easy Vin, I'm just checking for concussion...follow my finger...okay..."

JD settled in across the table, eyes just visible over his pile of food, tracking Nathan's ministrations with mild concern and sympathy. Josiah was perusing the selection at the trolley, listening to the conversation behind him with worried interest. Half Bucks area was currently filled by dizzy tracker and attentive medic, so he leaned towards Chris's seat, arm on the table, head wresting on his drawn up hand.

Miles was in psychiatrist heaven, observing each movement for every miniscule detail, analysing every word for hidden meanings.

Nathan had apparently determined that a concussion was unlikely, although one hell of a headache was certainly imminent and turned his attentions to the actual wound; a decent sized lump, growing steadily larger every second, already starting to turn from pink to red. At the apex of the lump was a small crease in the skin, still slowly oozing bright red blood.

Nathan clucked his tongue in disapproval, looking around for a cloth better than a dirty napkin, and was interrupted by Ezra's drawl, "If I may be of assistance, Mr Jackson...perhaps Mr Tanner can find use of this?" he accompanied his words by offering a white handkerchief from his breast pocket which Nathan gratefully accepted. Bucks comment about its cleanliness and second-hand state was greeted with a mocking eyebrow from Ezra, a scowling grimace from Nathan and a wholly unconcerned glance from Vin.

It didn't take very long to stop the blood flow, and only a moment or two later Nathan placed the cloth on the table and tilted Vin's head to the side and into the light slightly with his left hand while his right brushed several errant strands of hair from his view as he inspected the cut. "It's not too bad on the whole...very shallow, barely broke the skin...more of a scrape than a cut...head wounds always bleed a lot, capillaries under the skin...I think its stopped bleeding, _so long as you don't touch it_..."

This last was said in a slightly more waspish tone as Nathan swatted the already probing fingers away, he stepped back, adding, "Now, sit still for the next few minutes; you may not have a concussion, but that doesn't mean you won't be lightheaded or dizzy..." Vin nodded, well and truly familiar with the effects of a blow to the head; however instead of sitting he turned to look longingly at the lunch trolleys.

Nathan answered the pitiful gaze, "Chris has already purloined enough food to fill even your hollow legs, so I am sure he won't mind if you steal some of his...oh, look at that, he even has a spare soda! Now sit." With a grin at the large spread of lunch in front of his best friend, Vin moved to sit in the nearest chair, accompanied by the perhaps unnecessary guidance of Nathans grip on his shoulder.

Seeing that his 'patient' was settled and obediently stationary for the mean time Nathan moved to his own seat, starting on his lunch with gusto, occasionally glancing over to make sure that Vins face hadn't gone ashy and that the fine tremors that sometimes denoted a head injury where not present.

Of all the team, Vin Tanner was the one who was the least predictable medical wise; Nathan had seen the tracker blasted several feet by a dynamite explosion and then just get up and brush himself off...he's also seen Vin pass out from bumping his head on a low hanging tree limb. Completely unpredictable. Although Nathan was fairly certain that Vin had only given himself a fairly decent wack, but nothing more serious; Just because he wasn't presenting with any head injury symptoms right now didn't meant that they wouldn't on-set sometime in the next hour or so.

Miles's lunch sat neglected on the table in front of him; growing cold without his concern. The Doctors attention was still riveted on the interplay within the team. Cataloguing the gentle mocking that Vin was now deflecting with ease as family concern and affirmation, Miles scrawled into his mental log; beyond ecstatic at the unexpected insight he was receiving in this unplanned group activity.

He'd seen inklings of it in the team's continuous care and attention to Ezra over the past week; titbits here and there, but this actual need for medical gratification, and perhaps, unrealised potential seriousness had pulled the drapes from a window that had previously been covered.

It was like seeing the team truly come into focus; a blurry camera lens adjusted until only clarity remained. Team 7, each leader, each follower...all for one and one for all. Miles wondered if he should tell the brass that they needed musketeers; but then decided that, while being true in essence, would probably only result in himself being blacklisted.

Shaken from his strangely off-track reverie by the braying laughter of JD's 'mad hotdog' assassin, Miles had to wonder.._.musketeers?_

* * *

><p>Lunch was over much too soon for Miles taste, who had been rather enjoying JD, Buck and, much to Nathans chagrin, Vins attempts to pile their soda cans into a tower that reached the ceiling...needless to say, all three had been liberally sprayed with soft drink dregs upon the toppling of said tower, at least the first 12 times...after that the cans were deemed mostly empty.<p>

Chris had just shaken his head, warned Vin that if he fell and actually bashed his brains out, not to expect any sympathy and then moved out of the danger zone to the other end of the table, accompanied by Nathan, Josiah, Ezra and Miles.

The kitchen staff's reaction when they had returned to collect the trolleys had been worth the scolding Miles knew he would receive from the cleaning staff, once the gossip grapevine got done with the fact that Miles had allowed Vin and JD to actually 'stand – sans shoes' on the mahogany table.

Eventually though, all the soda cans were picked up, the table wiped down, and the trolleys wheeled out. Miles led the way back to the original conference room, where the ring of eight chairs was still set up, before long all members of team 7 were once again seated sensibly, with Miles taking the final seat between Nathan and Josiah.

Looking at the seven, Miles only had one component of his observation left to complete, and knew that this team verbal discussion was important,; it had elements of all previous components; communication, trust, honesty, with the added benefit of not having the formality of previous construction and secure framing that planned activities had.

As he had with Chris, Miles took point in the conversation, "Okay...this is out last official activity...once we are done here, I'll release you to your freedom for the weekend..." answering their grins with his own Miles continued, "You have all been great this week, participating and cooperating as you have, however, this last activity is to pull together the only observation I have yet to make in more than a superficial way...I want to hear _your _opinions and thoughts regarding your team_..._Okay, like with Chris this morning, we are just going to be having an easy conversation, nothing too strenuous I hope...so answer what you like and steer the conversation where you want..." Miles faded out, silence forming in the wake of his words.

No one spoke.

A moment or two later and it was getting a little ridiculous and so Miles picked up the reins, "Okay...I see we're are all feeling a little spotlight shy at the moment...that is something new...well...I'll start us off then...anyone brave enough to share their favourite movie?"

The gauntlet thrown, although hardly in a threatening way. Miles waited.

He knew that this was often the most difficult part of the weekend; sure, some teams had no problems chattering on for several hours about superficial rubbish that had no true meaning, however, Miles found that the higher intercommunity the team got, such as most of those he evaluated, the harder time they had opening up. He knew it was usually the stilted forceful nature of the conversation; the 'here...sit and talk about yourselves while an almost complete stranger listens in' that threw most teams, and he could understand that, however, the self-view was a very integral part of his assessment and team 7 wasn't leaving the room until he was satisfied.

He had hopes that once they got started, the conversation would start to flow easily, and thankfully, JD chose to pick up the almost forgotten gauntlet.

Fidgeting in his chair, and throwing a mischievous grin at Chris JD answered the question, "Well...I really like the terminator...I always choose it when I'm on movie selection at the ranch" JD grinned, Buck sniggered and several of the others tittered loudly at Chris's glare and following growl.

It was exactly what Miles had been hoping for. It was no good if all he got was surface chatter. 'I like the terminator' or 'My favourite flavour is chocolate' it didn't tell him much about the individual, and less than nothing about the team as a whole. JD's answer however was so much more revealing that that, despite revealing nothing. Miles was able to gauge that not only was JD into action movies with loud explosions and lots of gunfire, but also that the team met regularly enough at Chris's ranch to have a 'movie selection' schedule and also that JD was subtly digging at Chris, and although Miles didn't know what that dig was about, it was unnecessary to the evaluation. JD was comfortable digging at his boss, and it was something that several of the others were also aware of, including Chris, and didn't seem to take with anything more that a grudging humour.

"I don't see it JD...I really don't see any resemblance what so ever!" Chris replied, "Besides which...I know and you know that your favourite movie is Lethal Weapon...so don't even go there" Chris grimaced as he answered.

JD grinned as he started pointing out the similarities between Chris and some Character from the Terminator that Miles wasn't familiar with, his green glare sighted on JD, seeing that it had about as much impact as it ever did, Chris gave up, shaking his head in exasperation as he replied, "I'm too old for this shit."

Which of course set JD, as well as several of the others to laughing.

Seeing that the ice had been broken, and glad for it, Miles gently guided the conversation, "So...you watch movies at Chris's fairly often?"

Buck, with a glance at Chris, answered, "Well...not only Movie and pizza...sometimes its pizza and a game or just a barbeque...probably once a week...depending on our workload.."

JD sat forward and added, "Or Josiah's chilli...Josiah make's a mean chilli...although that's about all he can make!" the cheeky reply earned a hearty swipe from the insulted individual as well as several nicely worded agreements from the other members of the team.

Josiah threw his hands up in mock anger, "Where there's loyalty for you...last time any of you lot get my Chilli! Besides...apart from Nathan...it's hardly as though any of you can accomplish more than canned beans if its not barbequed, or comes from a box," at Ezra's raised eyebrow and impeding interruption Josiah add, "Or personally cooked and delivered by the nearest five star restaurant..."

Miles waited until Josiah had been suitably showered with apologies and appropriate levels of begging before interrupting, "So...Nathan can cook?"

Nathan's answer, which no doubt would have been suitably modest, was drowned out by Bucks exclamation of 'Beef tenderloin, stuffed with lobster and chanterelle mushrooms... to die for... better than any woman...almost!' which was high praise indeed, coming from Buck.

Instead Nathan shrugged, a little high colour to his cheeks as he explained, "I had thought to be a chef one day...before I found my calling as a paramedic,...and then this lot...its where some of my knife skills come from..." he grinned as he shrugged of the praise.

JD's miming of throwing knives mixed with some very strange karate type movements drew Miles attention and he had to ask, "So Nathan's a knife expert... I know you must be proficient for your profession...how good are you though?"

Nathan didn't even get a chance to answer this one as Ezra slid into the conversation smoothly, "He prefers the title 'blade technician' and 'good' is hardly sufficient in the phrasing of the question...Mr Jackson is beyond 'good'...however, he is only as proficient as he is required to be."

Miles understood that to mean 'back off- sensitive subject' and could understand that the talk of knives and killing may be an uncomfortable subject for a medical professional like Nathan, he acquiesced and moved in, knowing that if he ever really wanted to know 'how good' it would be in their files.

Nodding Miles turned his question to the rest of the group, "What about you lot...any particular skill that you bring to the team that not many others can match?"

JD immediately jumped in with, "Well Vin can shoot the wings of a fly at just about any distance and Chris's is the fastest draw you'll ever see...and the deadliest glare as well...people go belly up from that as well...Buck has his explosives...but it's his animal maggotsim that really does the trick you see...the smell puts any bad guys off like nothing else..."

JD didn't even have time to draw breath, about to continue on when Buck launched himself across the open circle with a shout of 'magnetism JD...magnetism and you can't keep the ladies away!'

Ezra simply shuffled his chair a little to the left and then promptly ignored the wrestling duo, Miles knew from earlier in the week that this was an ongoing joke between Buck and the others, most often JD or Vin.

The rest of the team followed Ezra's example and ignored the now head locked JD and triumphantly noogying Buck, continuing the conversation. Josiah added "All rather simplified, but true in any case..." he grinned towards the tussling pair, "JD brings his technical savvy and Ezra an unparallel chameleon complex...undercover ability...I suppose I bring tempered age and wisdom..."

Vin grinned, "Nope...Josiah bring old testament' like no one else...and can pinpoint a profile like 'that'" he clicked his fingers to emphasise his point before continuing, "although he's got that wisdom thing down as well...being as old as he is..."

Miles delighted in the easy flow of the conversation, as well as the details that were coming to his attention, mind busy correlating what he was hearing with what he already knew, still remembering to keep an eye of Buck and JD's progress, should one of them actually need rescuing; although he could see that Nathan also had an eye on that as well.

Josiah answered Vin's impertinence with a well placed example of 'old testament' thumping one huge fist into his other open palm, cracking the knuckles in a manner so menacing Miles had to wonder at Vin's sanity, seeing the cheeky grin; the tracker wasn't at all concerned.

"I' seen foals that are scarier than you..." Vin retaliated, gladdened to see the answering grin on every other face present.

Chris broke in with, "Well...that ain't no wonder...what with that hell spawn you call a horse..." he leant back from Vin's whiplash turn, although Nathan winced at the colour starting to flood the lump on Vins head and he wondered at the probable headache; Vin wasn't showing any signs, although that didn't mean much.

As expected Vin leapt to the defence of his horse, speaking loudly, both out of temper and to be heard over JD's tribal screech as he turned the tables on Buck...or at least tried to. "Now there ain't no call to be gettin' mean...Peso's ma horse...more n' that he's ma friend! " He sat up ramrod straight as he prepared to rail at Chris.

Miles leapt in, sure that this was a recurring argument as well, "So...you ride Vin?"

Distracted by a topic he actually like talking about, Vin offered one more blue glare and then turned to Miles answering, "Yup...we all do...have horses stabled at Chris's...ride whenever I git the chance"

Nathan broke in with "And he does mean whenever.. More than once I've had to drag his sorry hide back in at two am when he'd been out galloping Peso while held together with more suture tape than skin..."

Again, Miles heard more than had actually been said and subtly guised the conversation a little deeper, "You spend a lot of time at Chris's ranch when you're injured?"

Ezra answered before Vin could go of on some tangent about being treated like three year old, which the others knew he was want to do in relation to this topic, "Mr Tanner resides in a..well, less than hospitable section of Denver...and when incapacitated Mr Larabee prefers he not be at the tender mercy of whichever gun wielding mobster is currently lording the neighbourhood"

Aka - Chris likes to watch Vins back when he can't watch it himself.

"Lemme go Buck!" the shouted order interrupted the sudden silence, for which Miles was grateful as he realised he'd just brushed up against 'the wall'. Each team had one, it was a gauge of how deep, how personal, and they would allow a conversation with him present to go before the wall was slammed into place. He'd just found team 7's wall.

Backing off a little Miles turned his attention to Buck and JD. Buck had JD face down on the ground, the smaller form pinned to the floor with a knee to the small of his back and one hand smooshing JD's face into the carpet. Miles was glad that his cleaning staff was thorough. Despite the detail that Buck was in no way harming JD, the simple fact remained that he could not free himself from the larger body mass that had him pinned to the floor.

At least; not without help.

Vin leant down, intent on lending a hand when his arm was grabbed by Nathan whose face held a clear look of, 'Don't even think about it' and with a pointed glance at Vins forehead, the tracker allowed himself to be tugged gently upright again.

Nathan himself joined the fray.

Well, didn't join it so much as lorded over it. Hand on hips, legs akimbo he said softly, yet with a strange type of conviction, "Seats...now! Or I'll lock you in a room and have Ezra recite the constitution to you until your ears bleed and you asphyxiate on your own boredom..."

Miles snorted at the originality of the threat, but noted the way that both JD and Buck slunk back to their seats quietly. Ezra wasn't so quiet, "Excuse me! Am I to be acceptable losses in your little scheme Mr Jackson...expendable...excruciating death my own hand?"

Nathan tilted his head before answering as if tit was the most obvious conclusion in the world, "Nope Ezra...you like to hear your own voice too much for that...If it kills you it will be as a direct result of too much happiness..."

Ezra looked at him for a moment as the others burst into laughter, and then shrugged as he replied, "Touché Mr Jackson", which of course, only made the others laugh louder.

Miles, grinning himself, tried to steer the conversation back onto the bath he had intended, "So... I had a bit of a skim of your medical reports last night...just a bit of light reading...and well apart from the fact that several of you seem to attract bullets like a honey does ants...and Vin seems to have caught every cold, flue, virus, and plague under the sun...did I actually read bubonic plague in his report?...well.. You all seem in remarkable health...what's the secret?"

Nathan snorted, "No secret...they'd all be dead ten times over if luck and providence didn't like to screw with them...I suppose...there might be a little skill in there somewhere..."

Miles nodded, superficial...exactly what he had been expecting, seems he as brushing that was again. He tried another angle "From those reports, Vin is...has stepped in front of a bullet for Chris at least 3 times?"

Vin, obviously uncomfortable with the question, shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly.

Aware that he was practically bashing at the wall, Miles wondered if he should stop; he'd seen teams fly off the handle when the questions got too personal, but he had hoped that team 7 bit lower the wall a little for him, that they may have built a small amount of trust over the past week.

And then he noticed Chris Larabee's glare...and this time it was a serious one, not the mocking replicas of before, but a bonafide A-grade Chris Larabee glare.

And it wasn't aimed at him (he possibly would have keeled over dead if it had been), but instead was aimed at Vin Tanner; who seemed as unaffected by the dirty look as he ever was. Chris growled, "Not by my choice... if he'd stay the hell out of the way of my bullets he probably wouldn't get shot as often..."

Miles was aware that the wall had turned to thin ice beneath his feet, and knew he should head for solid ground, but knew that another opportunity might not come for him to get beneath the wall and so he pressed, "I'm assuming then, that you don't encourage this?" as stupid as the question sounded, Miles actually had evaluated teams the past where the leader had ordered his/her team to step in front of them in crisis situations.

Chris's angry reply destroyed any tiny fragment of possibility that this was the case for team 7, "Hell no! Goddamn self-sacrificing Texan..."

Miles didn't even get a chance to interject here due to Vins fiery response, "An' if'n I hadn't you'd be dead! 'sides...not like I'se the only one who's ever done it... ..Ez has and Buck, but I'se usually in a better position, being the sniper." He turned his own glare on Chris, " An' I ain't the one who almost got my head bashed in by that damn stallion!"

At Miles raised eyebrow, Josiah explained, "Brother Vin is just evening the score...referring to the time Chris got between him and a crazed stallion..."

Chris scowled at Josiah and then at Vin, before finally sighing and capitulating, "Sorry Vin...but I'm never going to be happy with you putting your life on the line for me...despite the fact that I'd do the same for any one of you...so..."

Vin nodded, "Yeah, I can understand that...But I ain't gonna promise to stop either..."

Miles could tell that this was not the first time that such an argument had occurred, and figured that it was probably relatively mild compared to previous incarnations that may have occurred while emotions still ran high after the relevant shooting. Deciding that a change of subject is in order Miles turned to Nathan and asked, "So Nate...working with this bunch...actually, no...not just working...Um...in all the time that you spend with them, socialising, work etc...How often would you say you had to be patching one or another of them up?"

Now it was Nathan's turn to snort, glancing at the others before answering, "I prefer Nathan thanks...and when am I _not_ patching one of them up?"

Miles nodded at the correction, knowing that people could be touchy with names and clarified, "I meant seriously...if you had to ball park it?"

Nathan leant forward in his seat, gaze serious and honest, "I meant that seriously as well...always...I don't think I can recall a time I wasn't administrating one of them or another...at least once a day...sometimes once every two days if I'm lucky...with this lot I get more variety than my days as a paramedic, everything from stubbed toes to broken arms..."

Seeing that Miles was still unbelieving, or not understanding Nathan raised an eyebrow at Vin..."There was Vin's head today...and his ribs yesterday..."

Miles interjected with a confused, "Ribs...what?"

At Nathans urging Vin blushed a little, moaning a reluctant '_Aaw Nate...'_ but lifted his shirt to show the mottled bruising across his torso before dropping the cloth and crossing his arms.

Miles gaped, unable to fathom how something like that had occurred, let alone how well Vin had hidden it...although he conceded, if Nathan knew it obviously wasn't hidden among the team.

Before he had a chance to ask, Nathan continued, "Wednesday was mostly Ezra being miserable...Tuesday too..Although I did have to find some Ice for JD when he crushed his hand in the door...you see what I mean?"

Miles raised an eyebrow at the explanation, nodding to Nathan's question. He did see what the medic meant, he just hadn't seen it. Most teams, even those with their own medics, took care of the small things Nathan had listed themselves; stubbed toes, splinters, even colds and flues...but team 7 turned to Nathan...and when they didn't, Nathan went and found them and dragged them to his side.

It wasn't that the team was using Nathan, because most of the time, at least for the very minor things, Nathan was the instigator of the care.

It fit his theory of family so closely that Miles almost whooped in exhilaration...it was like brother seeking out brother for help.

Filing away this confirmation for further assessment later in the evening, Miles turned back to the conversation at hand..."Your chest Vin!...How on earth...I'm assuming you haven't been like that since you got here? The obstacle course would have been agony...and the wall...of course...The Wall."

Vin went bright red as his transgression was brought to notice, despite having already been reamed over the coals for it. JD interrupted to ask warily "Uh... you know about that?"

Miles smiled, "I saw you and Vin both attempt it...I thought about announcing myself...but well, I didn't think you'd achieve it...and then you did...I must say Vin...that move certainly took years off my life..." Miles trailed off when he felt the glare of hell beaming into him from Chris Larabee direction and wondered at his own stupidity.

Chris all but snarled, "You saw them...you _watched them almost kill themselves and did nothing!_"

Chris was pulled up short by Vin soft, "Chris stop...it wasn' Miles' fault...It was mine...I'm an adult, I make my own choices...if anything we was lucky he was there in case anything really did go wrong..."

Vin trailed off as Chris immediately calmed, he nodded once sharply to Miles and then turned his glared on Vin he bore it with ease, although less so than he normally would; must have been the level of guilt he was currently feeling on behalf of Miles.

The conversation started again, although disjointedly to begin with before slowly becoming smooth and flowing easily, although it was only superficial, and never approached the wall again. Miles however, was happy with the effort the team had made and was quite willing to listen to them banter and chat for the next hour or so.

Finally though, knowing he had a lot of work to so between now and Sunday evening, Miles shooed them out, insisting that they spend the afternoon and most of the weekend at their leisure.

Miles had an evaluation to write.

Something that didn't involve musketeers.

* * *

><p>While Miles was holed up in his room, fuzzy socks and fingerless gloves adorning his hands and feet, formulating an evaluation that was captivating and revealing about the men that made up Team 7, said Team were enjoying the time off.<p>

Friday afternoon consisted of mainly relaxing in various rooms, chatting, mocking, bantering, watching TV, reading novels on eReaders, knitting and yes, knitting.

Dinner Friday night had them all gravitating to JD and Bucks room, which was promptly deserted in favour of Chris and Vins once it became obvious that JD and Bucks clothing were apparently alive, having migrated to every corner of the room.

Ezra's cards were brought out for the first time that week, showing that he was indeed feeling recuperated, and also leaving the others in much more financial ruin that they had previously been experiencing.

The football game was passed over in favour of the woman's ice skating finals, and the fact that Buck had postulated to have hidden the remote in a place that no one was brave enough to venture.

The hour was late when the others finally began turning in, as there was no reason for an early rise the following morning, a fact which Ezra seemed to relish repeating every five minutes. Although they only knew he had repeated it when they got through translating the manner in which it had been said.

Over the weekend Ezra slept, coaxed the others into multiple games of chance, slept, ate and bemoaned the state of his crumpled wardrobe. Although Vin, Buck and JD did manage to convince him of the benefits of joining them in the pool on Saturday afternoon when the weather turned frightfully hot all of a sudden. That is to say; they threw him in.

JD spent the majority of Saturday fiddling with the games console he had smuggled in his luggage, trying valiantly to find somewhere that had decent internet signal, only giving up in disgust after having Travised from the wall, to the fields, to the highest vantage point of the motel rooms and back to his and Bucks own room. Saturday afternoon was spent in the pool, inventing a wide variety of games that all turned out remarkably like 'Marco Polo'. Saturday evening was once again cold and JD gathered the various room keys, agreeing to bring jackets to the dining hall for dinner. Somehow when they split to their rooms after dinner, every single blanket had ended up on Ezra's bed.

Josiah was the knitter, having decided that the talent would improve the dexterity of his hands and having absolutely no shame in now being able to knit better than most little old ladies. His current project was a throw blanket for over the back of Chris's office sofa. The number of times that one of the seven ended up camped out on that couch, due to either injury or illness; Josiah figured that a little comfort might go a long way. Besides, Vin was the main offended and everyone knew what a cold fish he was. Despite the heat, the younger boys hadn't been able to convince him to join them in the water, although he had agreed to dangle his feet and participate from the edge. The solo attempt at pulling him under had led to a well and truly dunked, spluttering Vin Tanner. Josiah had been Ezra's choice of cover while he had protested his innocence in the great 'blanket escapade' and thankfully the big man had agreed that the prank wasn't exactly Ezra's style...not diabolical enough...

Chris had planned to spend Saturday morning relaxing but had all but been dragged from his bed at sunrise by Vin, who had insisted that he go running with him; only once the 'old and flabby' taunt had been used did Vin hightail it from the room, his pealing laughter incensing the pursuing Chris to faster speeds. Chris spent the few hours after that napping in his room, and then accompanied by the old novel he had been trying to read for weeks and Nathan and his book, had made his way to the pool for some afternoon sun. That evening he managed to redistribute the blankets in a manner that satisfied everyone, although Ezra still declared that the blanket he ended up with was not his, despite it having been the bottom on the bed, which also happened to be Ezra's.

Having been up since before the crack of dawn Saturday, and having consumed 8 cups of coffee, Vin was feeling brave, and more than a touch suicidal. He attempted to wake Chris at the ungodly hour of 8am...well before the appointed time of 10 am. Following his success, Vin, with plenty of assistance from a way to helpful Chris Larabee, had ended up in the lake, and then the other lake, followed by the pond outside the groundsman's cottage, and then in the stream that ran through the field. Finally he ended up in the pool, where he decided to stay until he was joined by JD, Buck and Ezra a few hours later. His one attempt at getting Josiah in the pool had been met with more suffering than a saturated, thoroughly soaked, extremely wet Texan could handle and so he beat it back into safer territory with a waterlogged call of 'Polo'. Saturday evening he'd had a close run in either either the sink or the toilet, he hadn't been sure which the guys had intended when they said he obviously hadn't been dunked enough for one day in retaliation to the 'Blanket escapade', despite his pleas of innocence. Only Nathan's timely intervening declaration that it lacked a certain 'creative flair' for it to have been Vin's handiwork saved him from his umpteenth drowning of the day. It did not save JD.

Nathan spent Saturday morning reading his new medical journal. He spent Saturday afternoon the same way. And Saturday evening. Now, intersperse that with various accounts of: 'Checked Vins chest' 'Checked Ezra's lingering cold' Checked Vins head' 'Made sure lunch was readily available' 'Supplied sun block for blockheads in the pool' 'Repeatedly remind Vin to be careful of ribs and head in pool' 'Repeatedly remind JD to be careful of Vin's head and ribs in pool' 'Repeatedly remind Buck to be careful of Vin's head and ribs in pool' 'Start to tell Ezra to be careful of Vins's head and ribs in pool only to be informed that any such reminder is totally unnecessary' 'Saved Vin from drowning in bathroom sink' 'Assisted in drowning JD in bathroom sink'. Only managed to Read forward, Acknowledgments and Intro of new medical Journal.

Buck slept in Saturday morning, dreaming of Mindy, and Cindy and Lindy and Kindy. The whole dream turned into a nightmare situation of 28 kindergarteners all scrabbling for Buck to be their 'Daddy'. Woke up screaming, JD just rolled over and went back to snOrring. Naturally Buck went looking for female companionship, came across Lewis the gardener, Michael the gatekeeper, James the mechanic, Samuel the events coordinator and Jack...the well, Jack-of-all-trades. Eventually retired to the pool to 'cool-off'. Buck is sure that there is a conspiracy against him, until he remembers the kitchens staff. The very 'female' kitchen staff. Quite happily spends early Saturday evening washing up in the kitchen with Macy, Anna, Nicole, Julie, Julia and Kimberly. Had his 'fix' by the time the others arrive for dinner and helps serve the meal he 'assisted in preparing'. Saturday Night Buck almost succeeded in drowning Vin in the bathroom sink, only to have the real perpetrator revealed as JD. Very glad that he didn't assist in drown Vin in the bathroom sink after all, because a very wet, very pissed of Vin Tanner is not something he needs to deal with tonight. Or any night. Ever. Again.

Sunday morning everyone chose to sleep in, although some more so than others. Vin was up at 7:30 and Ezra 11:30. Vin was completely packed and ready to leave at 7:45. Ezra was still rushing around (in a dignified manner) packing at 2pm. Their plane is set to depart at 5:30pm. None of them are impressed that they will have to complete the gruelling 3 hour drive to the airstrip again. No one has mentioned this fact out loud yet.

As they all pile into the much hated SUV, Miles gives his little speech once again thanking them for their participation and cooperation, telling them that it was a privilege to work with them, one he would like to have the opportunity to repeat in the future. Chris replied in turn with suitable platitudes and gratitude for a mostly enjoyable and relatively painless (he still hasn't forgotten the blind fold incident) week, and doesn't present horror at the thought of someday returning. Miles hands Chris a briefcase, explain that it is for Orrin Travis just as soon as they return, citing that the men would arrive back in Denver before their mail run even left the valley. Informs Chris that nothing in the folder is a secret and they may read it if they please. Goodbyes all around and the seven pile their luggage and themselves into the SUV and begin making tracks up the rim of the valley.

For some reason the return trip is nowhere near as painful as the incoming. The air con/heater works admirably, Ezra is not Sick, Vin is not jittery from 11 hours on a small plane (that is still to come), JD is not covered in ink, it is not dark yet, they know how far they must travel, tempers are all cool and calm, friendly conversation and banter swells and ebbs as they take in the rugged busty of the surrounding bushland. Vin falls asleep. Chris is beginning to wonder if its the general lulling motion of the vehicle.

They reach the airport at 5:15, with plenty of time to unload and stack their luggage, (Ezra's must be on top, out of the dirt) and to find a nice place to sit and wait the (hopefully) few minutes until the plane arrives. A brief conversation is held about the briefcase, but none of the men are overly interested in Miles's official evaluation as so choose not to open that particular can of worms.

Vin picks up the tiny speck in the sky 10 minutes later and sure enough, there plane lands exactly on time. They wait as it rolls to a stop and the hatch opens. The team Miles told them to expect, who would return with the SUV begin to disembark the aircraft.

Chris counts them: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8...

They seem to be grouped in two groups of four, three men and one woman to each group. As they gather and sort their luggage Team 7 size them up. The first group of four is slightly older than the second group, although not by a generation, it may even be a case of experience showing as age. Of the four, the leader is immediately obvious, because, although he's not the biggest he just has this 'aura' of _boss_ that matches the one Chris seems to give off. He'd greying at the temples, and a few other places, but still cuts a demanding figure. He's also very obviously Military, and high ranking at that. The woman of the team is also military; sporting a shorter blond hairstyle, Chris immediately senses very clear cut intelligence from her, a very 'mathsy' feel. The biggest guy on the team is just that, big. There's also something vaguely 'off' about him, although not necessarily in a bad way. The fourth member is the smallest of the men, although by no means tiny. He holds himself in a manner that doesn't suggest military to Chris, but still has that 'I can handle myself' persona that the others share. A worldly sort of intelligence oozes from him, he looks up and from beneath dark brown hair that is slightly longer than regulation would allow, his startling blue eyes remind Chris of someone else's as they meet his.

Chris hand his keys to the leader that his head had dubbed 'grey fox' for some reason, and gives the brief directions and instructions that they had received upon arrival a week ago.

Picking up his bag and chucking Vins to him, Chris leads his men past the other four.

Again, there is the feeling of 'offness' although it stronger with this group. The leader appears to be a younger man, and also the smallest man on the team, although Conan should hardly count and the other doesn't sport the body of a soldier, but rather that of a civilian. The leader's hair is messy, longer than regulation, and his stature is relaxed and tension free, yet despite this Chris knows Military when he sees it. He'd be willing to bet air force against the others though. Conan passes next, and with the dreadlocks, hiding an assortment of bones and beads (yes bones) as well as the look that he'd rather be dressed in a loin cloth than the jeans and polo he's wearing make Chris think that Conan might be more appropriate than he thought. As the final male member of the team walks past, Chris catches his eye for a moment and is almost floored by the naked vulnerability, although it's easily concealed by an even thicker layer of self security than Ezra carries. The intelligence that shines from that gaze catches him and Chris has to wonder if he hasn't just met one of the finest minds in the known universe. The woman who brings up the rear is tiny, but Chris can tell from the muscles revealed by the tight fitting top and shorts, as well as her stance that this is one tough warrior...Xena to his Conan perhaps? She's also drop dead gorgeous and Chris just knows that Buck is salivating as they pass by and thanks every known deity alive that Buck managed to keep it in his pants this once, not saying anything other than offering a flirtatious wink. The bombshell smiles sweetly, although Chris can see the danger she could be.

Eventually the seven of them were on the plane and the other eight seemed to be arguing over seating arrangements in the SUV, even with their seven it was an uncomfortable ride, Chris didn't envy the extra seat they had. The plane took off and Chris breathed his first proper breath since 'that lot' got off the plane...he was really very glad that none of his men had tried to strike up a conversation because he knew 'classified' and 'that' had been classified to hell and beyond... Chris wouldn't have been surprised to hear a little voice say 'You will self –destruct in 5 seconds'.

As he settled back in his seat, ready to endure the next hellish eleven hours, he did have to wonder however...what the hell a 'puddle jumper' was.

* * *

><p>END CHAPTER – please review if you like, hate or don't care.<p>

Epilogue is done – just doing finishing polishes before I upload – come back soon for the end of this interesting endeavour.


	7. The Report & Epilogue

_**Psychobabble**_

_Disclaimer: If only..._

A/N – Okay guys...As promised, an epilogue to tie it all together. Hopefully this works well, and I've lightened all my readers lives up a little with this fic. Stick with me for further Mag 7 adventures in the future...I've got a few bunnies already boiling in my cauldron.

Added a few tiny corrections overnight... Let me know if you pick up any errors that I can polish.

10/08/13 - Tiny little continuance edit - for my new fic (Blind Justice - yeah, the 'blindfold story!') Posting begins soon.

Also - for all those wondering - the teams at the end of the last chapter where indeed of the Stargate variety. Both SG1 and SGA because I can't choose. Jack O'Neil,Teal'c, Sam Carter, Danny Jackson, John Sheppard, Ronon Dex, Rodney McKay and Teyla Emmagon.

**The Report**

Orrin Travis loved Mondays; seriously, the crisp air as well rested minds were put to work, the slow reluctant start to the hustle and bustle of the coming week. Monday's were wonderful.

He entered his office, early as always; he'd never been one to lie around in bed on a work day, preferring to get where he was going sooner rather than later.

Placing his coffee on the desk he hung his jacket behind the door, booted his computer, watered his fern and fed his fish.

He sat in the plush brown leather desk chair and raised his feet to the footrest, relaxing back to enjoy a few breaths of peaceful silence.

Opening his eyes and turning to the tasks of the day ahead he reached for the top sheaf of papers in his in-tray only to realise he was reaching over a briefcase that wasn't his.

He leant back quickly in his chair, drawing his hand back as well; the briefcase hadn't been there when he'd left Friday afternoon.

For a moment he contemplated calling the bomb squad, and the realised the stupidity of that thought...he immediately blamed it on the stress of managing Team 7.

Gently lifting the briefcase closer to him, he turned it around so that the catch faced him, revealing the post-it note stuck to the front in, unless he was very much mistaken, Chris Larabee's handwriting.

_'Orrin...Miles Weston 's report'_

Suddenly calling the bomb squad didn't seem like such a bad idea.

Oh, he meant it figuratively of course, but if everything inside this briefcase was relevant to the ATF team affectionately labelled MAG 7..then an explosion could very well be imminent...possibly of the vein in his forehead.

Putting together that team had been both the best and the worst decision he had ever made...unparalleled though they were in the ATF world...they were also unparalleled in causing his headaches and grey hairs.

And the board sitters above him wanted to recreate them in ever subsequent ATF team.

If Orrin though it was actually possible he would quit his job and move to the Caribbean somewhere...and he'd take the original project team 7 with him.

Shaking of the impending feeling of world doom, Orrin flicked the latches on the case, never one to put any task off, strangely intrigued by what the good doctor had discovered about his favourite (and only) team.

Inside sat an innocent looking box folder, beige in colour, A4 in size, about 15 centimetres deep...capable of holding 300 sheets of paper.

Written across the top, in what would have to be the neatest handwriting Orrin had ever seen a doctor posses, was a title.

–ATF Team 7, Evaluative Report. Miles Weston PhD

Beneath that in bold red letters were the words – CONFIDENTIAL – EYES ONLY

Orrin pulled the box from the briefcase and set the briefcase aside on the floor, intending to ensure that Weston got it back in the near future.

The innocent looking folder of nightmares sat on the desk in front of him and Orrin breathed deep before plunging in, pulling the small square Velcro tab apart and opening the folder, pulling out the bound booklet, containing what looked to be several hundred sheets of paper.

Tuning to the first page, Orrin was me with the titular heading, the same as that on the folder, as well as the resort address and contact details. Flicking over he came to a table of contents.

CONTENTS:

1 - Forward

2- INTRODUCTION

3- TEAM 7

4- CHRIS LARABEE

5- BUCK WILMINGTON

6- JOSIAH SANCHEZ

7- NATHAN JACKSON

8- JOHN DANIEL DUNNE

9-EZRA STANDISH

10- VIN TANNER

11-CONCLUSION

12 * - INDIVIDUAL SELF REFLECTIVE QUESTIONNAIRES

Slowly Orrin began to read the gathered report.

Several sections seemed to jump out at him –

**_ATF Team 7 is a well oiled machine, each member an important part of said machine...however, like a machine, any damage, breakage or loss of just one cog of this machine, and all progress comes to a standstill. In many cases, the machine cannot even be started._**

**_As a team, the men function in a highly organised and cohesive manner; however a true reckoning of their relationship is not that of colleagues but rather closer to that of immediate family._**

Flicking through the pages, eyes taking in the words, the message that Miles Weston was telling, as strange sense of foreboding stared to form in his chest.

Stopping at the individual sections for each of the seven team members Orrin read each introductory paragraph.

**_Chris Larabee is a loner, a recluse, who against all odds, has somehow formed a pack. In essence Larabee has extended his extreme sense of self protection over his six team mates, now including them in his 'lone wolf' mentality. Because of this individual mindset and mentality he can become remarkably dangerous in the face of what situations he deems threatening to either himself as an individual or himself as a group. Territorial, defensive and an extreme aggressor, Chris Larabee is the ultimate lone hunter, however the added element of his team have changed the rules as far as his reactions and predictability are concerned._**

**_His team mates are his only recourse to control. He trusts them with not only his life, but with his sanity and strength as well. A true betrayal would be almost impossible for him to accept, however, one would turn him into an uncontrollable rage._**

**_The destruction of his team would be the destruction of Chris Larabee._**

Orrin reread the entirety of Chris's report three times over; none of it was anything new, he was aware of all of it; however he'd never seen it written in such clear concise terms.

Flicking several pages forward he came to Buck Wilmington's introductory passage.

**_For all that he presents a jovial and boisterous manner, Buck Wilmington harbours a deep darkness, an injury long ago buried that will never be revealed, never cause any issue, yet never be truly healed. It steers his actions in many situations._**

**_A loyalty to Chris Larabee that defies common sense has forged a deep bond, one that has weathered the tests of time and withstood all attempts to be severed. It has now morphed into a tether that binds Wilmington to Larabee as surely as anything else._**

**_Wilmington's heart is stronger than any other emotion that exists, yet all that would be required to break it would be the loss of a team mate._**

Orrin thumbed through to Josiah's section, not wanting to know anymore of the darkness that lingered beneath Bucks happy nature.

**_Josiah Sanchez is rage personified, yet tempered by those he calls his team. His wisdom and integrity shine through only because of their presence and need for his attention. Should Team 7 be torn apart by unforeseen circumstances it would be of no surprise to see Josiah relent to the constant pull of a past to dark to withstand._**

**_His strength and kindness, stem from his heart and mind, both which would be destroyed by the loss of his team._**

Dismayed, Orrin read further into Josiah's report, noting that it went on to say exactly what he had expected, strength, kindness, age, wisdom, experience, mature hand...yet it had started with such a chilling forbearance.

**_Nathan Jackson; a man perhaps as kind as any other. Strength, patience and gentleness is abundant in his personality. Although often overlooked as one of the background members of the team, he is extremely relevant to the continued success of the group._**

**_His own past has its dark clouds, although Nathan had long since accepted, dealt with and moved on from these before meeting team 7._**

**_However much they rely on him to function; it is returned threefold. They are his purpose._**

It went on to mention Raine and several other valid points of Nathan's personality, including his knife skills, but the introduction was sufficient in summing the man up.

**_JD Dunne, young, innocent, naive, malleable...under the right balanced guidance JD DUNNE will become a formidable agent in his own right, however he has enough self confidence and self awareness that denied the structures already in place it is possible that JD would become as bigoted and prideful as he is accepting and kind._**

Orrin had no intentions of removing JD from the team, whatever the kids age, yet added a reminder for himself to keep an eye on the young man's development, both as a person and as an agent.

He flicked through to Ezra.

**_Ezra Standish is a curious personality; a cold, aloof, selfish and egotistical shell effectively conceal a heart of more than just pure gold. A hard upbringing, although he had all the comforts a child could need, he had none of those not material in nature. A thirst to prove himself and the means to do so. So easily dismissed, yet beyond reproach in the ways that truly matter. A man who finds trusting abysmally hard and so easily broken. Failed time and time again...he is just starting to believe that team 7 may be the first to not fail him._**

**_Should they do so, for whatever reason, it is doubtful Standish would have the strength to keep he exterior shell from expanding, consuming all the good he hides within._**

Orrin had been very unsure about the merits of allowing Chris to hire Ezra Standish. However, he had given Chris free reign and had kept his word. Perhaps Chris truly had been onto something. Barely registering the sounds of his secretary arriving in the outer office Orrin continued onto the seventh and final introductory paragraph.

**_Vin Tanner has been broken. His personality centres have been shattered into millions of tiny pieces. He is in the final processes of finally healing. Although it is doubtful he will ever be truly whole, with the presence and assistance of Team 7 he will come remarkably close, although he will never trust again. He has no ability to trust and will likely never find this aptitude again._**

**_He does not trust team 7. He does not have to. Team 7 just is. Everything._**

**_Without them he shall irrevocably shatter again._**

Orrin read it again, as well as the following evaluation of Vin Tanners persona and all the collaborating evidence that Miles Weston had found and deduced. The depth of it stunned him. He had know that Vin had experience a troubled childhood, but was not aware that it had left the shy young man so damaged. Although he had to remember that all the information Miles Weston had recorded was subject to interpretation.

Continued flicking revealed the conclusion.

**_The formulation of teams in the image of TEAM 7 is not advisable, let alone possible. Such tightly woven interlocking webs of personality are so uniquely individual that it is doubtful they could be successfully imitated._**

**_ANY ATTEMPT WOULD LIKELY RESULT IN AN ABOMINATION OF UNREALISED PROPORTIONS._**

**_Several elements of TEAM 7 dynamics would be beneficial to other teams if they could be achieved are possible, such as socializing as a team, employing team medics that are specifically part of said team and no other. Work to build layers of familial trust within teams._**

**_Or Employ Musketeers._**

Orrin snorted at the concluding line, wondering at the strangely glib ending. Strangely unsettled, Orrin flipped the page and was bought up short by the pale blue paper covered in Chris Larabee's scrawl.

Intrigued he began to read on.

* * *

><p><strong>This Questionnaire is completely confidential.<strong>

**All opinionated questions are in regards or from the point of view of your fellow team members.**

**Q1 - Please Write your full name –**

_Christopher Michael Larabee_

**Q1b- Preferred Name-**

_Chris_

**Q2- Age?**

_41_

**Q3- Gender**

_M_

**Q4 - Favourite colour?**

_Black_

**Q5- Favourite Food?**

_Whiskey_

**Q6 - Favourite Place in the world? Why?**

_Ranch – Its home…memories of death and despair._

_And more recently of life, laughter and love._

**Q7 - Favourite Scent? Is it a memory scent?**

_Apple – My wife used to bake Apple-Cinnamon tart_

**Q8 - First Pet? How old?**

_Dog named Whisky - 4 or 5._

**Q9 - Current hobby?**

_Horse rearing. Men rearing._

**Q10 -Strongest Memory?**

_Night my wife and child were murdered._

**How long have you been a member of this team?**

_4 years._

**What do you personally contribute to the team?**

_Authority._

_Guidelines._

_Structure_

_Bad-ass-ness._

**Of your team members, who are you closest to? Why?**

_Vin Tanner._

**Where do you spend your time off/holidays?**

_Ranch._

**Who do you disagree with most often among your team mates, how often?**

_Ezra Standish. At least once a day. Religiously._

**Worse fight you've ever had with a team mate and who? What was the outcome?**

_Vin refused to wear his Bullet proof._

_Vin wore his Jacket._

**How many Injuries have you sustained as a direct correlation to your employment?**

_Official record is 9._

**What is your worst Fear/ phobia?**

_That 7 might become less_

**Are you happy with the way your life is right now.**

_Maybe content is a better word._

**Are you Single/ Committed/Married/ Divorced/Widowed?**

_Widowed_

**What do you drive?**

_Dodge Ram._

**If you were an ice-cream flavour what would you be?**

_Liquorish_

**Do you have any family?**

_In-Laws. My Men._

**Does your team have a covert call sign for you…if not; a nickname?**

_Cowboy 7_

**Would you die for a team mate?**

_Yes._

**Describe yourself in one phrase?**

_The bad element_.

**Describe your team in one word?**

_Magnificent._

* * *

><p>Orrin snorted at Several of Chris's glib answers and wondered when the man had begun to get his sense of humour back, he was starting to sound like the Chris who used to come around to the house to pick Sarah and Mary up for school.<p>

Turning over he came to Bucks Questionnaire.

* * *

><p><strong>This Questionnaire is completely confidential.<strong>

**All opinionated questions are in regards or from the point of view of your fellow team members.**

**Q1- Please Write your full name –**

_Buck Aaron Wilmington_

**Q1b- Preferred Name-**

_Buck_

**Q2- Age?**

_40 –ha Chris!_

**Q3 -Gender**

_Male_

**Q4- Favourite colour?**

_Real men like pink – sets the ladies hearts all a-flutter._

**Q5 -Favourite Food?**

_Pizza_

**Q6 - Favourite Place in the world? Why?**

_Diamantina's French Riviera – where the food is lovely and the view lovelier._

**Q7 - Favourite Scent? Is it a memory scent?**

_Perfume – sweet, sultry, sassy…_

**Q8 - First Pet?**

_Hamster named Big Buck. I was 9._

**Q9 - Current hobby?**

**_Ladies_**** .**

**Q10-Strongest Memory?**

_The look on Chris's face when he realised what had happened that night._

**How long have you been a member of this team?**

_3 years 8 months_

**What do you personally contribute to the team?**

_Sex appeal_

_Charm_

_Animal Magnetism_

_Explosives Technician_

**Of your team members, who are you closest to? Why?**

_Chris - his past is my own._

_JD – His future is with mine._

**Where do you spend your time off/holidays?**

_Chris's Ranch_

**Who do you disagree with most often among your team mates?**

_JD – Kid needs a new goddamn hat!_

**Worse fight you've ever had with a team mate?**

_I know now that Vin couldn't ever replace me in Chris's life…he's to Chris as JD is to me or some such …but we had a real doozy about a month after he first joined the team._

_He's still here and I wouldn't want him anywhere else – so you can see how that turned out._

**How many Injuries have you sustained as a direct correlation to your employment?**

6.

**What is your worst Fear/ phobia?**

_Not living up to JD's near worship… being unable to hold the team together._

**Are you happy with the way your life is right now.**

_Yes. Very – I got my boys, my job and of course…the ladies._

**Are you Single/ Committed/Married/ Divorced/Widowed?**

_I'm serious about every woman in my life._

**What do you drive?**

_The ladies to distraction_

**If you were an ice-cream flavour what would you be?**

_Caramel fudge indulgence_

**Do you have any family?**

_Just the boys._

**Does your team have a covert call sign for you…if not; a nickname?**

_Romeo 7_

**Would you die for a team mate?**

_Yes._

**Describe yourself in one Phrase?**

_A great big hunk a' love_

**Describe your team in one word?**

_Magnificent_

* * *

><p>Woman, it was always the woman with Buck, Orrin glanced back up to Buck's strongest memory and took back the thought.<p>

Josiah was next.

* * *

><p><strong>This Questionnaire is completely confidential.<strong>

**All opinionated questions are in regards or from the point of view of your fellow team members.**

**Q1 -Please Write your full name –**

_Josiah Anthony Sanchez_

**_Q1b- Preferred Name-_**

_Josiah_

**_Q2 -Age?_**

_53_

**_Q3- Gender_**

_Male_

**_Q4- Favourite colour?_**

_Green - Dark_

**_Q5- Favourite Food?_**

_Chili_

**_Q6 - Favourite Place in the world? Why?_**

_Father Donahue's retreat – Swiss Alps. Forgotten by the modern world and all its trappings._

**_Q7 - Favourite Scent? Is it a memory scent?_**

_Caramel…just like the smell._

**_Q8 - First Pet? How old?_**

_Goat named Gabriel. 3 years old_

**_Q9 - Current hobby?_**

_Knitting._

**_Q10-Strongest Memory?_**

_Committing my sister to the sanatorium_

**_How long have you been a member of this team?_**

_3 and a half years, give or take._

**_What do you personally contribute to the team?_**

_Profiling_

_Sounding board_

_Understanding_

_Brute strength_

**_Of your team members, who are you closest to? Why?_**

_All of the boys are my flock, but I generally gravitate towards Nathan Jackson for my own issues. The man is as steady as any anchoring rock._

**_Where do you spend your time off/holidays?_**

_Chris's ranch._

**_Who do you disagree with most often among your team mates?_**

_Nathan and I debate many topics, but I generally am amiable with all my team members._

**_Worse fight you've ever had with a team mate?_**

_Vin Tanner – Half killed himself carrying my half dead body for 12 hours through the desert. I was not impressed._

_Vin won me over with his statement that "better we both be half dead than you all dead"_

**_How many Injuries have you sustained as a direct correlation to your employment?_**

_5 perhaps._

**_What is your worst Fear/ phobia?_**

_That I will be unable to help one of the boys, either physically or spiritually._

**_Are you happy with the way your life is right now._**

_Happy, contented and satisfied._

**_Are you Single/ Committed/Married/ Divorced/Widowed?_**

_Single_

**_What do you drive?_**

_Honda Civic_

**_If you were an ice-cream flavour what would you be?_**

_Butterscotch_

**_Do you have any family?_**

_Younger Sister. Team 7._

**_Does your team have a covert call sign for you…if not; a nickname?_**

_Preacher 7_

**_Would you die for a team mate?_**

_Yes._

**_Describe yourself in one phrase?_**

_Lost sheep returned to the fold_

**_Describe your team in one word?_**

_Magnificent_

* * *

><p>Orrin hadn't even been aware that Josiah had a younger sister and made a note to ensure that she was receiving the best of care available. He also wondered when Josiah had been in the Alps..certainly not since Orrin had known him.<p>

He flipped to the next page

* * *

><p><strong>This Questionnaire is completely confidential.<strong>

**All opinionated questions are in regards or from the point of view of your fellow team members.**

**Q1- Please Write your full name –**

_Nathanial Leroy Jackson_

**_Q1b- Preferred Name-_**

_Nathan or Nate_

**_Q2- Age?_**

_35_

**_Q3- Gender_**

_Male_

**_Q4- Favourite colour?_**

_Aqua – dark, like the ocean_

**_Q5- Favourite Food?_**

_Meat and Vegetables – Sunday roast_

**_Q6 - Favourite Place in the world? Why?_**

_Denver – big enough to lose myself, small enough to make a difference._

**_Q7 - Favourite Scent? Is it a memory scent?_**

_Mint candy canes – Childhood Christmas memories._

**_Q8 -First Pet?_**

_A chicken named Bubbles when I was about 5. I wouldn't let my father kill her for the table – so she became my responsibility._

**_Q9 - Current hobby?_**

_Collecting ancient medical texts and utensils._

**_Q10- Strongest Memory?_**

_Being reunited with my father after 25 years of believing he was dead._

**_How long have you been a member of this team?_**

_3 years 4 months_

**_What do you personally contribute to the team?_**

_Medical Knowledge_

_Common Sense_

_Maturity_

_Sharp Blades_

**_Of your team members, who are you closest to? Why?_**

_Most likely Josiah – we both seem to be the quieter more mature offerings of the team…although I am quite close with Vin as well._

**_Where do you spend your time off/holidays?_**

_Generally at Chris's Ranch, although I do spend time with Raine also – she often comes to the ranch as well._

**_Who do you disagree with most often among your team mates?_**

_Ezra and Vin, no doubt about it…those two have plum nothing to rub together between them when it comes to common medical sense._

**_Worse fight you've ever had with a team mate?_**

_It was with Chris…although…it was really with Vin I suppose. Vin had refused to come in from the case we were working, he had been on stakeout alone for the past three days and nights, was out of food and running low on water, he also only had spasmodic contact with the rest of us back at the base…._

_I argued with Chris, who was arguing with Vin over the radio…so really, I was arguing with Vin._

_Vin got the guy about an hour later, and was picked up soon after that…he did however, earn himself a week of the silent treatment from me, as well as my foulest tasting natural remedy for the cold he caught._

**_How many Injuries have you sustained as a direct correlation to your employment?_**

_1_

**_What is your worst Fear/ phobia?_**

_That I won't be able to save one of the boys…_

**_Are you happy with the way your life is right now._**

_Yes._

**_Are you Single/ Committed/Married/ Divorced/Widowed?_**

_Committed_

**_What do you drive?_**

_Sedan_

**_If you were an ice-cream flavour what would you be?_**

_Vanilla – with strawberry pieces_

**_Do you have any family?_**

_The team._

**_Does your team have a covert call sign for you…if not; a nickname?_**

_Papa Bear 7, much to my disgust…_

**_Would you die for a team mate?_**

_Yes._

**_Describe yourself in one Phrase?_**

_On the outside looking in and then some fool opened the door for me._

**_Describe your team in one word?_**

_Magnificent_

* * *

><p>Orrin was beginning to see a pattern as far as the worst arguments the team had ever had were concerned, although he never in a million years would have pegged the quiet young Vin Tanner as the contrary one.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>This Questionnaire is completely confidential.<strong>

**All opinionated questions are in regards or from the point of view of your fellow team members.**

**Q1- Please Write your full name –**

_John Daniel Dunne_

**_Q1b- Preferred Name-_**

_JD_

**_Q2 - Age?_**

_22 – Almost 23_

**_Q3- Gender_**

_Male_

**_Q4- Favourite colour?_**

_Red_

**_Q5 - Favourite Food?_**

_Hot Dogs_

**_Q6 - Favourite Place in the world? Why?_**

_Mine and Bucks place – first ever 'adult' place._

**_Q7 - Favourite Scent? Is it a memory scent?_**

_Coffee – My mother used to grind coffee beans._

**_Q8 - First Pet?_**

_Goldfish named – Chippy. Only lived 4 days…I Was 6_

**_Q9 -Current hobby?_**

_Reprogramming the elevator tones at work_

**_Q10 - Strongest Memory?_**

_Being accepted onto team 7 – even if they convinced me I was the probationary coffee boy._

**_How long have you been a member of this team?_**

_3 years 2 months, 19 days, 11 hours and 16 minutes…give or take._

**_What do you personally contribute to the team?_**

_Technological prowess_

_Youth_

_Energy, lots of energy_

**_Of your team members, who are you closest to? Why?_**

_Buck – he's like a big brother. I live with him…he took me under his wing when I first arrived in Denver, even before I was part of the team._

**_Where do you spend your time off/holidays?_**

_Chris's Ranch_

**_Who do you disagree with most often among your team mates?_**

_Buck – we like to 'mock fight' and sometimes it can get a bit out of control._

**_Worse fight you've ever had with a team mate?_**

_Vin refused to let me pull back up duty on a buy – told Chris he'd walk if I was allowed to take his place – said he had a bad feeling._

_Turns out that Vin knew what he was talking about – he ended up shot, blinded, and wandering in the snow with a bunch of kids depending on him. –They'd all be dead – or worse – if Vin hadn't been the one…._

**_How many Injuries have you sustained as a direct correlation to your employment?_**

_3 serious…heaps of scrapes and bruises._

**_What is your worst Fear/ phobia?_**

_Being alone again – losing the team._

**_Are you happy with the way your life is right now._**

_Yes._

**_Are you Single/ Committed/Married/ Divorced/Widowed?_**

_Single…committed…I don't know. I'll have to ask Casey._

**_What do you drive?_**

_Chris –to drink._

**_If you were an ice-cream flavour what would you be?_**

_Bubble-gum_

**_Do you have any family?_**

_Just the team._

**_Does your team have a covert call sign for you…if not; a nickname?_**

_.com 7 - You know - like 'the dot com kid'_

**_Would you die for a team mate?_**

_Yes._

**_Describe yourself in one phrase?_**

_Old enough to know, young enough to not care._

**_Describe your team in one word?_**

_Magnificent_

* * *

><p>Orrin had been unsuccessfully been trying to find the culprit who kept changing the elevator tone music. He'd already assured himself of JD's innocence, it made him wonder how the culprit was doing it<p>

* * *

><p><strong>This Questionnaire is completely confidential.<strong>

**All opinionated questions are in regards or from the point of view of your fellow team members.**

**Q1- Please Write your full name –**

_Ezra P. Standish (Never shall I reveal the P.)_

**_Q1b- Preferred Name-_**

_Ezra…or god forbid… Ez._

**_Q2 - Age?_**

_27_

**_Q3 - Gender_**

_Male_

**_Q4 - Favourite colour?_**

_Green – as grass_

**_Q5 - Favourite Food?_**

_Coffee_

**_Q6 - Favourite Place in the world? Why?_**

_Denver – first place I've ever been accepted for me._

**_Q7- Favourite Scent? Is it a memory scent?_**

_Coffee – for the same reason I like the taste – it's divine._

**_Q8- First Pet?_**

_None – unless one counts Mr Tanner. Thankfully he's completely litter trained._

**_Q9 - Current hobby?_**

_Writing my memoirs_

**_Q10 -Strongest Memory?_**

_The Team coming to my defence against the accusations of the FBI, my previous employers._

**_How long have you been a member of this team?_**

_2 years 11 months_

**_What do you personally contribute to the team?_**

_Undercover skills_

_Rapier wit_

_Embellished expense reports_

_Level of decorum_

**_Of your team members, who are you closest to? Why?_**

_Vin Tanner- The reprobate is as undignified and unrefined as they come…yet is every bit a gentleman of honour and loyalty._

**_Where do you spend your time off/holidays?_**

_Chris Larabee's Ranch – although I protest; I seem to gravitate there much the same as the rest of the team._

**_Who do you disagree with most often among your team mates?_**

_Chris Larabee. I do love to see that vein throb._

**_Worse fight you've ever had with a team mate?_**

_Surprisingly, the worst disagreement I have ever had within the team itself was actually with Mr Tanner. For one so quiet and unassuming, he can be as stubborn as any other man…if not decidedly more so._

_Robin hood of course, always completely decimates his pay cheques by giving to his needy neighbours in that hell hole he calls home, and as such, when the time came to pay his power bill, Mr Tanner proceeded to pay Mrs Carlyle's, and her three children's first, as well as old Mr Humphries from the floor above him, deciding that being the tough young male specimen he is, the cold winter nights would have no impact on his health._

_So sick with cold, and lack of hot water, I finally cottoned onto the fact that something was amiss only when Vin all but collapsed late one night at the office, where I had been working and he had been, apparently, hoarding the heat and avoiding his cold apartment._

_All he was required to do was allow me to pay his electricity bill for the month…I cared not if he repaid me, but knew his pride would not allow any unpaid debt._

_It took many loud words and much gesturing, but finally he capitulated…after I threatened to involve Mr Larabee. And he also agreed to stay at my abode until they had reconnected his power._

_Of course, he paid me back within the week, also buying me the corduroy jacket I had been staring at longingly for the past two months, but refusing to buy on principle._

**_How many Injuries have you sustained as a direct correlation to your employment?_**

_12_

**_What is your worst Fear/ phobia?_**

_That the team will discover what everyone else has about me…that I am worth less than the gold in my tooth._

**_Are you happy with the way your life is right now._**

_Yes. Although wary that it shall end._

**_Are you Single/ Committed/Married/ Divorced/Widowed?_**

_Single._

**_What do you drive?_**

_Mr Larabee – completely mental._

**_If you were an ice-cream flavour what would you be?_**

_I would hardly profess to find myself a chilled dairy product, however, under duress... Mint swirl._

**_Do you have any family?_**

_Team 7 is as close as I have to family. Exempting my Mother of course…although. No, that is being ungrateful._

**_Does your team have a covert call sign for you…if not; a nickname?_**

_Wildcard 7_

**_Would you die for a team mate?_**

_Yes._

**_Describe yourself in one phrase?_**

_Complex in my shallowness, simple in my depths._

**_Describe your team in one word?_**

_Magnificent_

* * *

><p>Orrin sighed a little shamed of his own behaviour, he had known that Ezra was aware of his own black mark and general dislike among the ATF personnel, but he hadn't realised it had affected the young man that badly.<p>

He also made a not to check that Vin Tanners power bill was paid on time during winter.

There would be hell to pay if Chris's sniper froze to death.

* * *

><p><strong>This Questionnaire is completely confidential.<strong>

**All opinionated questions are in regards or from the point of view of your fellow team members.**

**Q1 -Please Write your full name –**

_Vin Tanner_

**_Q1b- Preferred Name-_**

_Vin_

**_Q2- Age?_**

_2? Maybe 23 or 24_

**_Q3- Gender_**

_Male_

**_Q4- Favourite colour?_**

_Blue_

**_Q5 -Favourite Food?_**

_Everything...except brocolli...and most other greens._

**_Q6- Favourite Place in the world? Why?_**

_Chris's Place_

**_Q7 - Favourite Scent? Is it a memory scent?_**

_Horses_

**_Q8 -First Pet? How old?_**

_Cat – Scraps - 4_

**_Q9 - Current hobby?_**

_Leather working_

**_Q10 -Strongest Memory?_**

_Ma saying – You're A Tanner boy. Don't you forget._

**_How long have you been a member of this team?_**

_2 years 8 months_

**_What do you personally contribute to the team?_**

_Shooting skills_

_Tracking_

_Best coffee in the whole of Denver_

**_Of your team members, who are you closest to? Why?_**

_Chris – we just connected._

**_Where do you spend your time off/holidays?_**

_Chris's_

**_Who do you disagree with most often among your team mates?_**

_Don't really disagree with anyone_

**_Worse fight you've ever had with a team mate?_**

_As I said…Never really had any fights with the guys_

**_How many Injuries have you sustained as a direct correlation to your employment?_**

_20 something?_

**_What is your worst Fear/ phobia?_**

_Being the only one left. I'd want to die too._

**_Are you happy with the way your life is right now._**

_Yep_

**_Are you Single/ Committed/Married/ Divorced/Widowed?_**

_Single_

**_What do you drive?_**

_I drive Chris crazy._

**_If you were an ice-cream flavour what would you be?_**

_Chocolate_

**_Do you have any family?_**

_Nope. Just Chris and the guys._

**_Does your team have a covert call sign for you…if not; a nickname?_**

_Angel 7 (as in - angel on high or angel of death)_

**_Would you die for a team mate?_**

_Yes._

_I have._

**_Describe yourself in one Phrase?_**

_Vin Tanner_

**_Describe your team in one word?_**

_Magnificent_

* * *

><p>Orrin gave a bark of laughter at Vin's unassuming completely logical answers, particularly when he had written that he never really got into arguments with any of his team. He wondered how the young man would react if he ever found out that all 6 of them had listed him as the one they had had their 'worst' argument with.<p>

Sighing, glad that Weston had lightened the impact of the report with those quite amusing questionnaires, he packed the booklet back into the envelope box and placed it in the top drawer of his desk, sitting back he steepled his fingers.

He had a lot to think about.

**ATTN: mwest_phd **

**FROM: otravers **

**Subject : TEAM 7 Evaluative Report**

Dr Weston,

Please accept my thanks and my apologies for putting up with my men for the past week, I am aware of both how strenuous and how rewarding they can be.

I have yet to see them this morning, but have a four o'clock meeting with Chris in his office, so naturally the whole team will be present in some capacity.

I am actually emailing in regards to your report. I read it as soon as I arrived at work this morning and I must say, the contents have been weighing heavily on my mind ever since.

I find that I am unable to give the report to my overseers due to the nature of your evaluation, yet find that I have no choice in the matter as it was they who requested it, and not I.

I have a potential solution to the issue but will await your reply before I suggest it as it is quite dramatic,

Regards,

Orrin Travis

ATF Team 7 Director

Denver ATF

* * *

><p><strong>ATTN: otravers <strong>

**FROM: mwest_phd **

**Subject : TEAM 7 Evaluative Report**

Director Travis,

Please call me Miles or West, and believe me when I say you team were a truly enlightening experience, one I hope to repeat in the near future.

Was my evaluative report not sufficient for what you required, I did hold a little data back that I couldn't find any section to cohesively fit it although I don't believe it was to the detriment of the report.

A solution you say...I must say you have me a mite confused, but If I can help in anyway please don't hesitate to contact me.

Kind regards,

Miles Weston

Max's resort

* * *

><p><strong>ATTN: mwest_phd <strong>

**FROM: otravers **

**Subject : TEAM 7 Evaluative Report**

Miles,

No, no...nothing of the sort, your report was extremely thorough and very detailed, perfectly spot on. I'm surprised that you managed to get that much out of them; they can be a tight mouth bunch at time and I'm afraid don't have much respect for Authority that has yet to earn it.

You must have earned it.

No, I'm afraid the fault lies with me, Team 7 you see...well these are my boys I guess and I will not have anything harm them should I be able to help it and an alarming amount of your report (don't fret – I am aware that it was necessary and unable to be omitted) is in direct correlation to what would destroy them, both as individuals and as a team.

I simply cannot give this report to the brass, particularly not when you basic conclusion is that their wish to recreate the team 7 dynamic is all but unattainable in any case, therefore...I have a solution.

Hear me out, I am not even sure if this is what's best for my men yet, so it is only tentative, but – I would employ you as Team 7's personal psychiatrist...it sounds extreme, I know – but this way, your report is out of reach because of patient/doctor confidentiality laws and the such.

It would also be an added bonus to have a psychiatrist who didn't sign them off at Josiah's urging because Ezra, at Chris's behest, has run so many rings around them that they believe it was their idea in the first place.

Let me know your initial response.

Regards,

Orrin Travis.

Denver ATF

* * *

><p><strong>ATTN: otravers <strong>

**FROM: mwest_ **

**Subject : TEAM 7 Evaluative Report**

Director Travis,

I am remiss to admit that I had not even thought about it that way...it would of course be deplorable if it were to fall into someone's hands to be used as a weapon.

In regards to you tentative solution,

I have had time to think about this opportunity and have come to several conclusions.

If you will have me I would be delighted to accept the position, your team really impressed me while they were here and I would welcome any challenge they wouldn't surely present.

Having said that, are you sure I am the right man for the job, I understand that Ezra can be quite a handful, however; for the majority of his stay here Mr Standish was under the weather and therefore not up to par. I am not sure even I could handle him at full vantage. Having said this however, I would do my best to be up to the challenge.

Also – I have not dealt with the team in an actual psychiatrist position, only from an evaluative one so I am unsure as to my reception.

I also would not wish to step on any toes already within the departments hierarchy, however if you believe it best for the boys, I am more than willing to try.

Regards,

Miles

* * *

><p><strong>ATTN: mwest_phd <strong>

**FROM: otravers **

**Subject : TEAM 7 Evaluative Report**

Miles,

From your answers I have already determined that you will be a perfect fit for the position. The boys can be a challenge, in particular Ezra when in relation to psychiatric health, however, you are a step above most of the departmental assistance in that you at least are aware of this fact.

Also – the departmental psychiatrists have informed me that you are 'welcome' to the hell spawn that is Chris Larabee, Wildcat that is Vin Tanner and gold toothed charmer than is Ezra Standish as well as the rest of the motley crew and they gave me a rousing order to wish you good luck.

Considering Vin is almost impossibly closed mouthed with our current psychiatrist, I am not sure you could do much worse in concern to them regarding you in an actual psychiatric light.

I have already put the idea to the boys for approval, and although the answer was hardly a rousing cheer, there were no refusals (although there were a few groans – detriment of your profession I believe).

The idea has been approved by the ATF board and you are scheduled to start at your earliest convenience. If you are agreeable, you may stay at Max's and continue your other work, however Team 7 just became your number one priority...they will have quarterly scheduled meetings with you at Max's as a team as well as individual monthly meetings with you here in Denver.

We can provided an apartment as well as travelling costs if needed.

Please let me know if you will require anything else.

Also – the brass was not overly happy when I informed them of the changes, but I also put a clause in your contract that made you the only one allowed to do reports and evaluations on the team, so all's quiet on that front.

Regards,

Orrin Travis

ATF Denver

* * *

><p><strong>ATTN: otravers <strong>

**FROM: mwest_phd **

**Subject : TEAM 7 Evaluative Report**

Orrin,

Glad to hear that the report isn't going to be an issue for the boys, let me know if anything changes, a few good lawyers should take the wind out of their sails.

Everything from your last email sounds suitable, I shouldn't need travel costs, although living accommodations whilst I'm in Denver would be convenient, rather than trying to find something on the fly.

Glad to be working with you, shall we schedule our first round of individual meetings a month from today?

Also inform the team that I have invested in a chopper to lift them from the airstrip to max's...I'm sure that will quell any last reservations, at least as far as our quarterly meetings are concerned.

Regards,

Miles.

* * *

><p><em>And that is how TEAM 7 ATF came to have the highest conviction rate, highest turnover rate, highest insurance bill, highest medical cost, lowest team loss rate, lowest casualty loss rate...and their own personal psychiatrist.<em>


End file.
